


Risorgere

by AssistedRealityInterface



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 70
Words: 173,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssistedRealityInterface/pseuds/AssistedRealityInterface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Avengers want freedom, what they get is death. But to a hero, death is a cheap thing, easily overcome, so long as you have good friends willing to aid you in your resurrection. That leaves Phil Coulson, Pepper Potts, and an unlikely ally stepping in to ensure the Avengers' resurrection, and a war waged on the man that ordered their deaths in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> So people die in this one.  
> But it isn't permanent, and the entire point is their return. That said, I'm not putting 'Major Character Death' as a warning because it's right in the summary, this note, and it isn't a brutal, angsty end to the fic, which is what I feel that tag is more used for. If it really becomes a problem, I'll change it; I just don't want people turned off by this fic because they think it's about death when it isn't. Hell, the title MEANS resurrection in Italian! (Or Latin, it's been awhile.)  
> So anyways, sad first chapter, but it all goes uphill from here, I promise. I hope you enjoy it! This was my NaNo fic--it kind of got out of hand, but then again, don't they always?

Theirs had always been a life of sacrifice. They had known that going in, and they had known that as they rode into the night, their hearts soaring for the triumph their care would not let them shout into the stars. They knew as they left that they would be dogged for the rest of their days, but they would be dogs no longer; free as wolves, free in their pack, tied up in one another for eternity.

And so that came to pass.

The eternity of death was what was waiting at the end of the long road of freedom, awaiting their arrival with open arms. S.H.I.E.L.D. never let its captives go. They were agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. until they died—and if they decided to contest this fact, death came swifter than anticipated.

Fury gave the order, but, to Maria's surprise, ordered two spared.

"Sir," she trailed off, hesitant, "is there any reason to spare Coulson or Potts? They're the most vulnerable..."

"For remembrance," Fury said, his eyes glittering darker than the midnight sky under which the Avengers now rode, free, "as a reminder."

Maria didn't understand, but Fury had that look in his eyes again that said she shouldn't question, and so she didn't.

"Bring the bodies back," he said as she went to leave, "they'll be preserved here, should the agents need another reminder."

"...If you're sure, sir," she murmured, her heart heavy as she shut the grand oak door to Fury's office behind her, as if she could shut out the weight of her orders.

...

They had a month of freedom; a long, beautiful month in Eden, in which they enjoyed the life they had always wanted to live, safe and sound and happy. For a time they could forget about the pale horse awaiting them at the end of the road.

Then S.H.I.E.L.D. decided it was about time they remembered what they had run from—and what, inevitably, they would run towards.

It was Tony that died first; brave, reckless Tony, so in love with his suit, with his cars, with driving free. The car crash left no body, nothing to mourn, but they all knew. The newspapers called it a drunk driving accident, (Pepper would've torn out Jameson's throat personally, but they never went into the city anymore, never went out alone), but they all knew better.

Steve was the next to die, though to him, that probably came as something of a relief. While he fought valiantly against the agents sent to kill him for his team's sake, he was a dead man walking and they all knew it. His Tony, his wonderful, beautiful Tony had left him first, and the Captain had lost enough. His losses went with him, guiding him into the  night. 

Clint and Natasha were next. There was no weapon, no blood, no nothingit was as if they had melted away into the night, to be scattered to the winds like so many ashes.

Phil rent his clothes grieving, tearing his suit jacket and his shirt in a fit of madness, the buttons scattering like their bones as he screamed his sorrows to the same midnight sky that had seen his greatest triumph.

Their protectors were dead on the inside, hollowed-out and left to rot, that much was clear. S.H.I.E.L.D. had chosen its first few targets well—the stalwart center of the Avengers remained in the hearts of Phil Coulson and Pepper Potts, and they had stuck a knife right into the crux of their souls.

Bruce did not die first. The first blow was one that numbed the mind, culled the Hulk, and left him helpless. Then they killed him, though it may have been an act of mercy at this point.

Only the god-king and the last of the team remained, and not for long. Thor died valiant, though he died all the same, a S.H.I.E.L.D. weapon Phil had authorized—the Destroyer gun felled him, the only thing that could kill a god.

Pepper and Phil stood together over the things they had left behind. A spare arc reactor, still stubbornly clinging to life. Neither of them knew how to shut it off. The Captain's mighty shield. Clint's bow. Natasha's stingers. Bruce's notebooks and his small, delicate porcelain teakettle.

And, for they had assumed they could not lift it and so had abandoned it, Mjolnir itself lay where Thor had thrown it, atop a small obsidian cluster of rock; a last-ditch attempt to save something, someone, when he could not save himself.

Pepper looked at Phil with dead, hollow eyes, and the most desolate expression he had ever seen, carved into her face by loss, over and over, working the grooves until she no longer looked human. Phil was sure as he looked back at her that he looked exactly the same under her gaze.

"We're not dead," Pepper said, and it sounded like blasphemy. "We're...still here. There has to be a reason. You said—"

"I said they never left a man alive," Phil said. "But we let the Captain die. We don't even deserve that title."

"What could we have _done_?" Pepper snapped. "Do you think I feel any better about Tony, about _Bruce_ , we just—"

"We could have just stayed," Phil murmured. "But that's not what they wanted. We knew what we were doing when we turned those keys in the ignition and drove. We were racing towards our deaths, and they knew it. My lovers died to be free. The least I can do is honor that sacrifice. But I don't deserve that same honor. That's the point, Pepper—S.H.I.E.L.D. said as much. We're not even worth that."

"Then _now what_ , Phil?" Pepper cried, her voice breaking. _"Now_ what do we do? Say we're not worth it and just abandon all this? Run where? And for how much longer? I can't live without them!"

"Neither can I," Phil agreed, his voice a quiet, haggard murmur, "but we have to. That's what they want."

"...What?" Pepper whispered, her voice hoarse. Phil gave her a weak smile.

"Time to go back to work." He said.

...

They drove for three days straight, so it was in fact a bureaucratic miracle that Phil Coulson returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. that morning with his head held high, his tie neatly knotted, and his shoes polished. Pepper took less care, but Phil had at least made her run a brush through her hair, holding it for her when her hands began to shake.

They walked in quietly, the two of them not wasting a single glance on the agents muttering and whispering about them, like befuddled doves, startled at a member of the flock leaving the coop in a burst of feathers and freedom.

Phil made his way into Fury's office and sat in front of his desk, his knuckles white and his smile thin at best.

"Good to see you again, Phil." Fury said. Phil focused only on the eyepatchnot the eye before him, glittering with malice and triumph. Malice was the bitterest poison, but triumph would make him scream. He had to stay calm.

"Good to see you as well, Director. We had a long leave of absence. Though shorter than I'd expected." Phil said. "I was assuming it would be...permanent."

"Permanence tends to make people complacent. Forgetful. We figured a stern reminder would matter more than a body nailed to the signposts, so to speak." Fury said.

"I see," Phil said. "That's understandable."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Fury replied. "Agent Potts as well."

Pepper looked like she would rather rip his heart out than see anything his way, but Phil couldn't blame him for ignoring that little detail.

"I have a mission for you both," Fury said, and Phil's eye twitched before he could stop himself. Fury chuckled. "It's nothing intensive, agent. Simply put...there are a few remainders we need collected. Somewhere up north. I think you two know where."

Pepper gasped quietly before she could stop herself. Phil put a hand on her shoulder, but aside from that, he betrayed nothing. Fury leaned forward on his desk, but Phil refused to look, even now. He would not pay heed to his triumph. Not when it was ill-won on the backs of his lovers.

"You'll leave in the morning. Get dinner, have a shower. Be ready to go." He said. Phil nodded, curt and barely responsive. Fury's lips curled up, a cheshire grin.

"Dismissed," he said, and Pepper was out of the room before either of them could blink.

Phil took a little more time. He took his briefcase with him, carrying it out as if he led a funeral procession. It was hard for him to look otherwise these days.

His lack of haste in leaving saved him, however; as he moved to leave, he heard a gaggle of agents passing, talking to each other in high, twittering tones.

"The bodies are still there," one enthused. "Saw 'em myself when I went down to speak with Doctor Danvers. They're keepin' them in this weird stasis liquid we pilfered from A.I.M.; don't know what it's about, but they're still interested in 'em."

Phil's heart soared, but he kept his face placid. If they noticed him, they might let Fury know he had heard, and god only knew what that might do to his lovers, lying down there cold—but perhaps not _dead_ , perhaps...

He waited a minute or so to leave, enough time so that they could tell themselves he hadn't heard. Indeed, they didn't seem to hear him as he wound his way through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s halls like a ghost.

Fitting, he thought, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

He met up with Pepper at the car. She had been crying, he saw that much. Phil sighed and kissed her cheeks, wiping away her tears as tenderly as he could.

"They're down in the labs," he murmured. "I don't know who, how, or why, but I heard the agents talking. If they're down there, it's for a reason."

Pepper whimpered softly, nuzzling his neck as she trembled. Phil hugged her tight.

"I need him back," she whispered. "I'll get War Machine from Rhodey, pump that bastard full of _lead_ , burn this entire place to _ashes_ , I'll—"

"Darling, that won't work. I like the idea, Pepper, but it's not a rational decision. You know that," Phil kissed her forehead. "Though I like the idea of the armor. Save it for later."

"Tony had," she gasped, choking on the words, on his name, "T-Tony had a s-suit built for me. If we could—"

"Pepper, you know that's not going to work," Phil said as he pulled her into the car, giving her a look. Pepper nodded, setting her jaw firm.

They drove away from base, far enough that Phil could be reasonably sure they were free of S.H.I.E.L.D. bugs, and slipped into a tiny diner. They ordered coffee as Phil asked her, "Do you know the access code?"

"Captain America," Pepper replied, "C-Captain America, Tony said. If we ever..."

"I don't want to risk the suits yet," Phil said. "We don't know what kind of game we're playing. But if we can get them stored away someplace that isn't Stark Manor, that'd help. They haven't sacked the place, I know that—they'd draw too much attention. That said, we shouldn't call attention to ourselves there either. There'll be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents watching the place at the very least. Let's give it a bit of time to die down."

Pepper barked out a bitter, agonized laugh. When Phil realized his turn of phrase, he did as well, and that was how the waitress found them; bitter, agonized, and cracking up.

They didn't talk for awhile after that. The little spark of hope was already dangling in front of them, but it was a spark that required much more kindling, and Phil was wracking his brains to find some.

He couldn't simply steal away with the bodies. He had to figure out if reviving them was even possible, and if it was, how. He had to see who was down therewhom from his team, his heartblood, his life and soul, S.H.I.E.L.D. had judged worthy of keeping. Athena might be sympathetic; she loved the Captain dearly. His loss would perhaps have pushed her over the edge.

They would perservere. But the question was _how_. He could see all the pieces on the other side of the gameboard, but he didn't even know what pawns he himself held—or, in fact, what pawns to assemble.

For now though, rest. Even if there was a chance, it would be a chance long in realization. He and Pepper, however, were not long for this day if they didn't rest soon.

They paid and left, driving off towards Phil's S.H.I.E.L.D.-assigned house. Coulson opened the door, his hands shaking.

"I can sleep on the couch," Pepper offered, her voice tender. "If you can't..."

"I..." Phil opened and closed his mouth, massaging his temples as a migraine pounded at the heels of his skull, spreading outward. "Pepper, I can't..."

"They would've wanted you in there," she murmured. "Keep the bed warm for them."

Phil nodded, heading upstairs quickly. Pepper understood his abrupt departure; he couldn't hide the harsh, agonized sobs, even under the shower's beat.

Pepper waited until he had fled to his bedroom to shower herself.

"JARVIS, temp—"

She cut herself off with a sigh. JARVIS was in the suits, in the Manor, but not with them. Truth be told, it felt like another death; another person S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken from them.

But he _wasn't_ dead—she had to hold onto that. He just wasn't with them now—soon, she prayed, but for now...

She turned the shower on herself and wept as she washed, salt for the dead mingling with the water washing her clean. The warmth and absolution did not make her free. If this time on the run had showed them nothing else, well—nothing would. She would never be free of S.H.I.E.L.D.; this shower might as well have been a cage.

Pepper went to bed as soon as she could. The blankets huddled around her felt more like a vise.


	2. The Unlikely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil Coulson is deemed worthy. A lot of unlikely things happen, but that is not one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case none of you have noticed, I am pretty sure Phil Coulson is my favorite character in possibly the entire universe.  
> Also, this casually ignores the Avengers movie and Loki becoming a bitter psychotic asshole because fuck that, that's why. And don't worry, he's not going to be a whimpering good guy about this; what I want to make clear is he is devoted to Thor. Thor and that's it. If he does anything good it's for Thor or himself. As much as he hates his brother sometimes, he can't imagine life without him, or not loving him as well, and Thor feels exactly the same, so there you are.  
> Also, you're getting an update today largely to show that this will be a WIP because frankly I'm a moron sometimes and don't know how to format, so there you are; 2/? is a go.

They left early in the morning, stopping only long enough for a cup of coffee, and heading back up to the forests they had hid in. It hadn't been intended as permanent, but the truth was, they would've never been able to run far enough.

Pepper slept when Phil drove, and he did the same as she drove. There was little to interest them on the drive; the seclusion and lack of humanity lurking about was what had lured them here, in the hopes it would be easier to spot agents skulking through the shadows.

Once they arrived, they knew where to go. Phil pulled the car into a copse of trees, keeping it well-hidden as he took the keys and put them in his suit jacket. Pepper fell into step beside him, the two of them quiet as they wound their way through the woods, towards their home.

It had been a crude shelter, especially by Tony's standards, (he had complained about the lack of running water until Thor found them a river, and even then he still whined on occasion), but Bruce had been adept at building shelters from very little, and it had eased some of his hurts to see how useful his advice and invaluable his skills had become in this situation. They had built themselves a home. 

Phil opened the door, collecting what was left. It wasn't much; spare quivers and discarded tech, a single red leather glove, and a few odds and ends. Still, Phil handled them like they were finely spun crystal, packing them away as best as he could. 

He went outside afterwards to join Pepper at their graves.

"Does it hurt?" Phil murmured. Pepper laughed.

"How could it not?" She replied. "I wonder if his heart ever felt like this. If the weight of the world weighed down on the reactor. If..." Pepper shook his head. "No use in worrying about ifs. But...I can't make myself stop."

"I understand, Pepper," Phil soothed her. "It hurts. I know. But...what else can we do? There were eight of us when we left; with only two of us still here...well. We've got enough grief for six people." 

"It's worth bearing it," Pepper whispered. "I loved them, Phil. Loved them all."

"And they loved you," Phil promised. "We can't let go. S.H.I.E.L.D. will never let us. But we'll remain. If they want to make us a reminder, let them. We'll stand in their place for as long as we can. We'll never be as great as them—gods and kings, all of them. But...we can live for them. Keep the memory alive. And _that_ will remain, far greater and more powerful than we could ever be."

Pepper buried her face into his chest and hugged him tight. Phil closed his eyes and began to weep, sobbing into her hair. Pepper stroked his hair as best as she could from her embrace, but soon she couldn't keep up her own strength, not with Phil weeping into her skin, battering her resolve with his tears, and the two of them stood there weeping at the gravesites, Mjolnir's tattered strap waving in the sudden breeze that skirted around them.

"Brave words, Son of Coul. Beautiful as well. Perhaps there is a Silvertongue who walks upon Midgard as well, though I admit I've grown fond of my position."

Coulson tensed, whirling around and snarling at the man who walked to meet them, through the copse of trees that rustled in the wind behind him, as if they bowed to their king.

 _"Stay away from them_ ," Pepper rasped, going to her hip, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at him. Coulson couldn't help but love her for that as much as he grieved at the agent she was becoming. 

Loki paid it no heed, and why would he? He walked among them, another god-king, fallen though he might be, and iron and blood held no meaning for him.

"Is it true?" He said as he observed the graves. "Banner, Stark, Rogers—your lovers, Barton and Romanov, Son of Coul?"

"...Yes," Coulson said. "Yes, they're _all_ dead."

Loki froze at that, still as the trees that had announced his arrival. 

"No," he whispered, and Coulson was shocked to see a crystalline icy tear trailing down Loki's cheek, glimmering in the low moonlight. "Not him. Not my blessed brother, _no._.."

"Loki, _don't—_ Loki, don't you _dare,_ those are—" Phil couldn't think of any way to stop him as he came forward, but his body had another idea.

His hand lashed out and he grabbed, throwing what his hand had snatched up without quite thinking about its action. 

Phil Coulson swung Mjolnir with all his might, striking Loki square in the chest and sending him skidding into the trees before them.

Pepper stared. Loki stared.

Phil Coulson brushed some dirt off the cuff of his sleeve.

"Were you going to tell me you could wield the hammer of a god-king at the next briefing, Phil?" Pepper said, the sass not quite as sharp as she had hoped due to her shock.

"It was in the paperwork somewhere," Phil said vaguely. "Article 7, section VI..."

He held out his hand. There was a strong, powerful thrumming, and before he knew it, Mjolnir had returned to him.

"...Does it know its true master is dead?" Phil murmured.

"Likely," Loki remarked, used to the blows of Mjolnir and thus, standing and brushing his jacket off as he spoke. "Uru magic is strong, and it will have recognized the death of its user. You're just the worthiest person in the nearest Tristate area. Not a hard task, to be granted."

"What would _you_ know about Midgard?" Phil said, bristling. Loki chuckled.

"Think nothing of it. I've been here for a time...biding my forces, waiting..." He trailed off. "None of it matters now. Only Thor. Only my foolish, fair golden lion." Loki paused. "Is he..."

"He is," Phil murmured. "The Destroyer gun."

"... _My fault_ ," Loki whispered, and the genuine agony in his voice made both Pepper and Phil wince. "My golden Thor, my brave lion...all my fault..."

The two of them looked at each other, letting Loki have a private moment of grief.

"Where is he?" Loki asked. Phil swallowed.

"...In the pits of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s labs," he said. "Or so we assume."

"Please," Loki begged, "I know you've no reason to trust me, and you are wise for that, but he is my _brother_. Please, allow me to take him back to Asgard."

"Why _should we?_ " Pepper snapped, standing her ground before the god. She had no hammer, but her wits were enough; Loki actually took a hesitant step back as she snarled in his face. "He was on _our team_! He _died_ to protect Phil and I, for the freedom of what was left of his _team_ , and you think we'll just _hand him over_?"

"If you do, he might live," Loki said.

That knocked both Phil and Pepper off their feet.

"The others might as well," Loki added. "Who knows how deep the magic of the Allfather runs?"

Phil knew putting his trust in a trickster god was like playing Russian roulette with five loaded chambers, but what other choice did he have?

"...If we get you in," Phil said, his voice careful, "can you go undetected?"

"I am the finest mage in all the Nine Realms. It will be as if I have never been," Loki promised. Phil nodded.

"If we allow you to take Thor, we ask only this. Tell Odin of what has transpired; seek aid. Please," Phil sighed. "Even if he is unwilling...tell us the bodies they keep. Aside from Thor, I want to know who we have a chance of..."

The word hung in the air around them. Loki nodded, though he looked cross.

"It shall not behoove me to speak with Odin again," he said. "But...for Thor. _Everything_ for Thor. As you did for your team."

"Yes, Loki," Phil agreed. "Like we tried to do. Who knows? You might succeed in our place."

Loki preened at that, and Phil relaxed; the god was prideful, but singularly devoted to his brother, and he could use that. 

"I will try," Loki promised. "The one thing I require is Mjolnir. I cannot wield it, but it is further proof of...of Thor's..." Loki looked away. 

"My golden lion deserves his hammer to accompany him," Loki said. "You are mortal, after all. It is not yours by rights."

"No," Phil agreed. "But _I_ am worthy—or have you forgotten?"

"No," Loki murmured. "But it is his power. Even if you _are_ worthy of his mantle, it is _his_ mantle." 

"I know, Loki," Phil replied. "I loved him too."

"But I loved him longer," Loki said. "And I loved him first."

Phil sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"We can't attract attention to ourselves, and storming through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s halls with Mjolnir isn't exactly subtle," Phil agreed. "But it's good to know I can wield it, should we need it."

"You will not go unaided when I travel to Asgard," Loki promised. "I should not go armed; it would not reflect well on me. There are a few things I can leave as protection. If they should attack, they will suffice."

"Thank you, Loki. We'd be honored to accept your gifts," Phil said. "Now; we're going to be leaving soon. If you came with us, I would find it easier—no offense, prince, but you are..."

"Untrustworthy," Loki agreed with a chuckle. "Of a sorts, I suppose I am. But you can always trust me to be a trickster, can't you?"

"Spare me," Phil sighed. "Are you coming for the car ride or not?"

"It is beneath me," Loki muttered, "but such teleportation over a vast distance like this wouldn't be prurient, especially since I need to spirit myself into S.H.I.E.L.D. and out again." Loki sighed, long-suffering.

"Yes, Son of Coul," he agreed with another sigh, "I shall ride in your metal beast."

Pepper glared at Phil; he shrugged, taking Mjolnir and hefting it as he made his way away from the memorials, heading back to the car.

Pepper lingered for just a minute longer; there wasn't much at the memorials but a stone each with their names carved into it. Pepper traced Tony's name, then Bruce's; then, carefully, all the others.

"I'm sorry," she apologized to the cold, deaf stones, "but he's our only hope. As twisted as that is."

She gripped Tony's stone, sapping all the strength she could from it. She picked it up and sighed with a sad smile. 

"Proof that Tony Stark has a heart," she mused as she took the stone in her hand. "Proof he can be killed, more like."

She set the stone down and walked away. The stone seemed a little more worn at the loss of her touch.


	3. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki puts his plans in motion. Pepper and Phil think happy thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to sort of make Loki...like, sympathetic without refusing to acknowledge his flaws, because it's okay not to make him a cackling villain and all, but he was also kind of a crazy murderer, however justified, (at least in Thor) so...y'know. This is not necessarily a happy chapter; to be honest, it won't be happy for awhile, but I promise you, it's coming. Until it does, I hope you enjoy the fic as-is!

Loki was a quiet passenger, looking out the window and watching the trees roll by. He didn't seem like the trickster any of them had known and fought before; he seemed like a lost and frightened child now, a boy that had gotten separated from his older brother and now wandered on his own. There was more truth in that than Phil or Pepper could realize, but even they saw how he gripped Mjolnir, though he could not lift it, and took comfort from its mere presence.

Sometimes as they drove through the woods, stories slipped from his lips; the hunts he and Thor had gone on, or the times they had gone riding through the forests of Asgard. He spoke of the boy prince he had loved, and the god-king he had done his best to undo, the stories blending together until they formed a clear picture in Pepper and Phil's head.

Through the tales, they knew Loki had loved Thor dearly; he had sought to unseat him, true, but Loki defended himself with the reality that Thor would have dragged Asgard into war. Pepper and Phil said nothing about the war Loki had seemed intent on dragging Midgard into.

Loki talked about the man that he had loved and hated in equal measure at times; the brother he wanted to see him as an equal, as a friend...as something more than a monster.

He was so lost. That much both of them could tell. He talked without aim or direction, meandering through thousands of years made up of happy memories, speaking only of Thor, Thor, Thor. The great golden lion of Asgard, the fairest fool, oafish and frustrating and wise and wonderful.

Even if Loki hadn't said it on the eve of the third day, Pepper and Phil would've known.

"I loved him," Loki said, gripping Mjolnir's handle tight even as it refused to yield to him. "I loved him with everything in me, more than a brother should, and I don't think he ever understood. When I pushed him away, more shamed of myself than him, he did not seem to comprehend...though I couldn't blame him. Whose thoughts would run through the same poisoned river mine traversed? But...perhaps he suspected. My brave blond oaf is more clever than I credit him for." Loki sighed.

"It was a blessing to know I was cursed, truthfully. I thought, perhaps...if we were not brothers, he might..." Loki shook his head. "It matters not what I thought. What matters is he is dead and I...I will..."

"Avenge him," Pepper supplied. Loki snorted.

"Yes. Avenge him," he murmured. "Does it hurt to know this is what your team has been reduced to? Two mourners and a mischief-maker?"

"Two agents and a king," Phil said. "A demon king of ice and snow, if you so fancy yourself, but a king all the same." He sighed as they pulled into the city limits.

"It'll do," he whispered, "it'll have to do."

They drove to the S.H.I.E.L.D. house; Phil frowned as he pulled up.

"There are definitely bugs here," he said as he observed it. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would know you were with us, and we can't..."

"I understand," Loki said. "I can find shelter until the morrow. Son of Coul, if you will allow me...I must take Mjolnir. Which means you'll have to come with me." He frowned. "Best to leave it by the gates of transport; I can direct you."

"All right," Phil agreed. "Pepper, would you rather—"

"I'm coming with you," she interrupted him. Phil smiled.

"All right," he replied, turning around and following Loki's directions back out into the rest of New York.

It took them another half hour's drive, but they eventually made it towards a place Loki explained was a gateway to Heimdall and the Bifrost.

"Place Mjolnir there," he said. "The magic within may help my travels; best to let it sink in overnight."

"All right," Phil said, picking it up. The power that tingled through his veins felt like lightning—but, more importantly, it felt like his team, felt like _Thor_ , felt like...like being worthy. Like they could make it out of this.

"We will, Son of Coul," Loki said, as if he heard his thoughts. "I assure you, we will."

Phil placed Mjolnir in the center of the intricate circle before him. Loki smiled, pleased, as he knelt down to grasp the handle, as if to draw power from it any way he could.

"I will send a message to you as soon as I am able," Loki said. "The Allfather has two ravens; Huginn and Muginn. They can travel the realms freely to bring him back newsor send it."

"Thank you," Phil said. "I'll await it eagerly."

Loki bowed to him once, low and deep, before with a sudden burst of silver powder and ice, the god dissipated into nothing. Phil jumped; Pepper grabbed his arm. The two of them watched as the silvery powder and ice crystals settled onto Mjolnir, covering it in a thin, fine sheen that sparkled like ancient, hard-wrought beauty.

Phil and Pepper turned and left after that, allowing Loki to leave the only mark on Mjolnir that he could.

...

The two of them slept together that night; Phil confessed with a defeated sigh that he couldn't keep the bed warm enough for the two of them. Pepper understood he didn't want sex; neither did she.

In his heart, he still belonged to the Widow, to Hawkeye, and she to Bruce. They simply took strength from the feel of one another, alive and safe and strong. The deaths of their team had shattered the walls of their little castle, but the stronghold remained. They had always been the center, the stalwart foundation that held up gods and heroes alike. As long as there was a foundation, there was hope to rebuild.

The next morning, Phil and Pepper went into work to find Maria in Phil's office, a single eyebrow raised. Phil didn't even have to see it to know she was ready, her hand on her gun.

"So, I'm not going to beat around the bush; how did you get the bodies out of the lab?" She asked.

There was a moment's pause while Phil's morning-addled mind did its level best to comprehend that. Then he decided it wasn't even worth bothering.

"Commander, I haven't even had a cup of coffee," Phil said. "I'm pretty sure neither of us are up to hefting both Stark and Banner, a supersoldier, along with a six foot, three hundred pound god-king out of the labs, all the way up eighteen flights of stairs, and driven them somewhere in the time it took for us to arrive at base."

"We could've taken the elevator," Pepper remarked. "Would've been awkward, though. Would've had to prop them up against the wall and hope no one wanted a quick jaunt to the bridge."

Phil bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Maria glared at them both.

"Be serious! You two shouldn't have even come back _alive_ and you're risking your necks _again_ —"

"Maria, you can check the cameras. Neither of us were in the building until five minutes ago. See if anyone unfamiliar came in—you'll find no one apart from the techs and the doctors, I guarantee it. I know how S.H.I.E.L.D. works and what it does, Commander. Why do you think I was so keen on leaving?" Phil snapped.

Maria got quiet, her lips pursed. Phil didn't betray himself with so much as a twitch.

"Fine," she finally said. "I'll check the cameras myself. And if there's something on them that shouldn't be, I'll _shoot_ you myself."

She stormed off; Phil and Pepper looked at each other.

"I have a few briefings to write," Phil finally said, "stay with me and proofread them, Agent Potts?"

Pepper nodded, taking a seat across from him as Phil began to type.

 _"That was fast,_ " the screen read. _"Do you think he's gone already?"_

Pepper leaned over with a frown.

"Misspelling here, agent...let me correct you." She said, leaning in to type.

_"Probably; what now? Do we wait for him? I can't stand this place one more day."_

"Ah, thank you; I'll re-edit it." Phil said, keying in a few words as fast as he could.

_"We wait for Huginn and Muginn, or some other sign. Once we get one, we go from there. Until then, though...I know it's hard, but we have to stay here. We can't draw unwanted attention or risk ourselves in any way possible. We have to pretend like nothing's wrong, Pep."_

Pepper nodded, but Phil could see how much it had wounded her. He stroked her hair for a second, brief but loving.

"The briefings are fine, agent," she finally said. "Absolutely fine."

"I hope so," Phil replied. "I really do."

...

They worked quietly for the rest of the day, their hearts aching as they went through old files until Pepper couldn't handle it, breaking down in tears. Phil took a little longer, but finally he couldn't be strong for her any longer, and so he broke down himself. Pepper hugged him tight, doing what she could to be his strength, but there was only so much two broken people could give one another, even if they were meant to be the foundation of the group. There was, after all, only so much healing that could come from within.

Maria never reappeared, so they figured themselves in the clear. Regardless, Phil knew he would be on edge for another confrontation with her; they hadn't escaped either the Director or the Commander so easily. 

Eventually, he gently ushered Pepper home, convincing her she needed rest. She showered while he cooked them a quick dinner; the plan was to curl up in bed with plates of grilled cheese and warm tomato soup.

Loki had other plans.

Phil walked into his room to find a long, intricately-wrought spear, its tip both glorious and wicked in its sharp curve. It was inlaid in gold and glimmered in the low light of the room.

_"Keep this, should they invade. I have placed enchantments on it; the cameras will not pick up its presence. Fare thee well, Son of Coul—he who is worthy."_

Phil sighed, unable to stop a small smile forming across his lips. He lifted up the spear, testing its weight in his hands. Pepper grinned, triumphant satisfaction clear on his face.

"Right in his _back_ ," she said. "Phil, we could—"

"Pep, what's this compared to everything else?" Phil said, picking his words carefully. Pepper frowned.

"True," she agreed. "All right. Come to bed, Phil."

"All right, fine," Phil replied, setting it down in the corner and bringing the tray of dinner over to her. Pepper smiled, taking a bite.

"Do you think..." She trailed off, gesturing to the bed. Phil shrugged.

"Do I think so? No. Everyone knew how much I loved Clint and Natasha." He said. "You wouldn't stoop to my level anyway; you're much too beautiful, they'd say. I can't get so lucky twice. Even if they _do_ say so, though, I don't care. You're all I have left. I _do_ love you, Pepper—you're just..."

 _Not Clint. Not Natasha. And you're not Bruce, either._ Pepper finished for him, though she didn't say it out loud. It would only hurt them both more.

"I know," Pepper murmured, pecking him on the cheek. "I'm glad, though. I don't want anyone trying to separate us."

"They've hurt us enough," Phil agreed. "I doubt it. We're much more use to Fury together, forever on base, like keeping corpses about on castle walls."

"...That's a pleasant metaphor," Pepper murmured. Phil sighed.

"Ours is not a pleasant existence right now." He reminded her.

She had no rebuttal for that, so they laid in bed together and ate, trying not to think of the times where they had cooked and ate with six other people as well.


	4. Constant Vigilance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki goes graverobbing. The Director and the Commander are getting suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one is a little short; the next one is obscenely long, and there was simply no good stopping point to break it off at. I did the best I could to add to it, but I'm aware it isn't enough; probably going to be an update tomorrow to make up for it.  
> By the way, to elaborate; yes the Bifrost is still broken, but Odin's magic, given to Heimdall to allow transports of one or two people at a time, coupled with Loki's own magic, is enough for SOME transport, as the Avengers movie proved when Thor just sorta...showed up, lol.

Maria didn't trust them, she knew that much. How could she trust any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that had run? Either they were traitors, and deserved to die...or they had never really been a true S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place. They would've known it was pointless to run if they were.

She sighed and shook her head, making her way to Fury's office. He was waiting for her, as expected; she pointed to his laptop.

"Security tapes," she said. "Coulson and Potts claim they know nothing. I can't really say I believe them."

"You can say that," Fury agreed, "but the facts are the facts, no matter what you do, Maria. Come here; just watch it and see what we see."

Maria frowned as she leaned over Fury's shoulder to watch the security tapes. They were full color but grainy, and she watched them intently to pick up any details she could in spite of that. The tubes lay in their assigned area, glowing softly; all the Avengers they had managed to preserve lay still and silent. One minute they were there, safe and tucked away until they had further use of them. Then the next...

"They're...gone, sir," she said. "Simply gone. Like—"

"Magic," Fury finished. "It's magic, Hill, plain and simple. This has Loki's scent all over it."

"Thor was the first one taken," she agreed. "It was more like the others were an afterthought..."

"Possibly. But that said, we don't have anything concrete to pin on Coulson or Potts; we don't know if they were involved with Loki. Still—shadow them. Make sure that no other strange occurrences follow in their wake." Fury said. Maria tilted her head a little.

"Sir, it's only been a week since they returned...are you sure they're willing to risk their lives, considering the way things are going now?" She asked. Fury shrugged.

"The Avengers were a lot more complicated than partners, Maria. It was a team, plain and simple; more bonds, more roots. That's why there was nothing to be done; no salvaging that group. They all ran, they had to die." Fury explained. "A team like that? Yeah, they'd take the risk."

"If you say so, sir," Maria agreed. "I'll watch them."

"Thank you, Commander." Fury replied. "And for god's sake—next time, don't turn your back on the bodies."

Maria forced a laugh from her throat before leaving as quickly and quietly as could be allowed, like a shadow.

She spent the rest of her day observing the two of them carefully, whenever they emerged from Coulson's office. They didn't act suspicious at all, though, Maria noticed one thing she found interesting; neither of them acted quite like grieving agents.

She had never seen an agent survive going rogue, but separation missions created a unique sort of grief in an agent, and wasn't that exactly what this was? She knew the signs; the drinking, the drugs, or the self-harm that often began to wear down and leave a mark upon an agent, no matter how powerful and tall they once stood. Without any partners to prop them up, even the best of agents fell.

Yet they perservered. Even Potts, who wasn't even close to a true S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, held firm and strong in the face of the loss. They stuck close to one another, true, but that in and of itself wasn't a shock; most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents did that anyway.

Still. Fury had kept them alive for a reason, one Maria didn't understand, and she couldn't help but feel like that had been the wrong choice. She would never admit it to herself, of course; the Director did what he knew was best in every situation, and since the Director knew everything, he always knew what was best...but this...this felt wrong. Something about all of this felt like impending disaster to her, and she felt her trigger finger itching, a temptation to just shoot them both and end the failed experiment that was the Avengers taking over in its entirety through her mind.

But she didn't. She remained silent and watchful, still observing. 

She didn't know everything. But eventually, she would. And as the next Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., it was her job once she knew all the facts to act upon them and do what was best. The longer she watched the two of them, placid and calm and wholeheartedly  _sane_ despite all that had happened, the more she was firmly convinced that would end up resulting in both Coulson and Potts' deaths.

If she felt any grief over this fact, she did not voice it to anyone, herself included. Not on base, not while she wore the badge of S.H.I.E.L.D. on her heart.

Maria just sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she watched the security tapes again, searching intently. If Loki was involved...the questions remained; how did he know what had transpired? Who had brought him here? And, most importantly...what was he up to right now?

...

The Commander's questions were being answered even as she thought them, though she did not know it. Loki stirred, and Loki planned his return home, the bodies of his brother's comrades beside him.

Loki murmured a quiet spell in the woods, the trees rustling around him as his hands glowed with power. The chrome-and-glass tubes before him began to glow as well, until finally Loki spoke a few sharp words, harsh as crashing icebergs, and the power stilled.

"Well," he said, "that shall keep you safe from any mortal's prying eyes for awhile—at least until I return from Asgard. Though the Son of Coul will not be pleased to know his lovers are not among you."

His eyes went dark as he stroked his brother's casket.

"I am sorry, brother," he murmured. "I know they are your team, and I at best a betrayer, no brother of your blood. But it is not your time to go to Valhalla with them. Please forgive me this final transgression. I do it for you. I do everything for you."

He kissed the cold glass before gesturing with his hands, lifting it up to float in his wake, following him as he stood in the gate's circle. He would not deny that part of him feared this, worried about what might transpire when he returned to Asgard, but he could not let his fear seize him too strongly. If he did, he would lose Thor, and lose any chance of his brother being returned to him. It was worth the fear and worth the risk.

"Heimdall," Loki called, "I know you think me a traitor, but I come with the body of our king, my brother, slain by those we sought alliance with. I beg you, please...for Thor, for my golden lion...allow me passage with Odin's magic. Take from me my magic, my godhood, my very _life_ —so long as Thor is taken to Asgard in its stead."

For a second, there was no reply.

Then Loki felt magic all around him, answering his plea; his own magic and another's combined, giving him enough power to go forward.

He had a split second to smile with relief before the Bifrost swallowed him whole.

When he came to again, Heimdall was standing over him, his sword thrumming with power.

"I didn't kill him," Loki blurted out. "Please, I _love him_ , I only want—"

"I know, traitor prince," Heimdall said, cutting him off with a quiet, golden voice, thick and smooth as syrup. "I see all. Even into your heart, black and twisted though it may be."

"But it is true," Loki said. "For him, for him and him alone..."

"I know," Heimdall said. "The problem is convincing him of that."

Loki didn't know which man he meant, though it was not like to matter. He sighed and stood, watching Heimdall greet the body of his king.

He made his way across the gateroom, towards Thor's body. He bowed his head, sorrowful, and placed his hand upon the casket. His eyes glowed like the setting sun as he perceived the corpse before him, ever-perceptive and ever-watchful, searching feverently for anything that might give them hope.

"There is still a spark of him, somewhere," Heimdall said. "No mortal can fell a god, let alone Thor. I can see his life within him."

Loki groaned with relief. Thor was alive, however faintly he clung to the spark of life. Loki would nurture that spark, kindle it and set it afire; his Thor would live, he would see to it, but first...he was now left alone to deal with the rest of Asgard.

"I have summoned for someone to escort you," Heimdall told him, and there was something warm to his voice Loki could not name. He tensed, fearful it would be someone more than willing to slit his throat on the way to the throne room and be done with it.

Soft silken skirts swished against the ornate floor. A quiet sob reached his ears.

Loki dared not breathe. If he so much as moved, the dream would break.

Frigga embraced her son from behind, before turning him around to bury her face into his chest and weep.

For a second, Loki remained frozen.

Then, very slowly, the ice around his heart thawed, and his limbs moved in kind, encircling his mother into his embrace, kissing the top of her head.

Only Frigga ever knew about the tears he then shed.


	5. On Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In apology regarding last chapter, this one is excessively long. Hope you enjoy it!~  
> I really do think Loki would still love his mother. She is the ONLY person out of the whole family to tell him they love him after the Laufey's-baby fiasco. Plus, let's be honest; Odin was the idealized father who they never got close enough to really know and recognize as human--just some sort of idealized kingly type they were trying to live up to. Thor could, though it made him a dickbag until he got kicked down to Earth, and Loki couldn't, which made HIM a dickbag too, just different. Frigga was their mother; constantly around, always close to them and taking care of them, someone they could identify with and understand as a person and a mother both. It made it easier for Loki to love her; he didn't need to live up to any standards she set.

The two of them had a moment together in peace before Frigga saw Thor's corpse.

The scream that was ripped from her lips, ravaged and aching with sorrow, made Loki shudder despite himself.

 _"My son_!" She howled in agony. "They killed my _son_!"

"I know, mother," Loki whispered, his voice stumbling over the word despite himself, "the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D., they killed him. They killed him when he fled—it is evidently their custom."

"You could not save him?" Frigga murmured, tears trailing down her cheeks. Loki shook his head, his bearing defeated.

"No, mother. I could not save him. He died before I ever chanced to check on them..." He sighed. "Heimdall says he still lives."

"There is a spark," Heimdall agreed. "I advise you seek the Allfather. He will have some solution or another up his sleeve."

"Like conveniently falling asleep when I tell him," Loki muttered, in a voice too quiet for either of them to hear.

His hands glowed again and Thor's casket rose up. Frigga stood beside her son, tears in her eyes. 

"We will save him, mother," Loki promised. "I will brook no further solution."

"I know, my love," she said. "And we have saved you in the bargain."

Loki made to protest, but he saw the bags beneath his mother's eyes, the wrinkles that hadn't been there before his supposed suicide. Her desperation and sorrow was evident; the least he could do was ease the burden of the woman who had raised him, if not bore him.

Loki took her cheeks in his hands and kissed them, giving her a tight embrace as they approached the palace.

"Your father..." Frigga trailed off. "Do you fear, Loki? You mustn't, he's missed you..."

He shook his head and brushed it off.

"Even if I fear, my love for Thor outweighs this. I will never fear enough to turn tail when Thor is involved. He would not, and I can take comfort from this." Loki said, his voice smooth despite his hands trembling, just a bit.

 _Though_ him _, our father might have listened to. Perhaps they should have killed me in his stead._

Loki sighed and shook his head, starting slightly when he felt fingers running through his hair.

"You've gotten so thin..." Frigga murmured. "You look _pale_ , darling, paler than you usually do; it was a _healthy_ pale, a _royal_ pale, don't look at me that way. And your _hair.._."

She sighed and tsked, taking his arm. Loki could feel her almost leaning on him; he knew she had to be terribly desperate, in need of solace and strength from her son, knowing what was behind them. He kissed her forehead, the gesture rusty from lack of use, but genuine all the same. He had never found it in himself to forsake his mother. He loved her still; he hoped she knew, and that she could take comfort from it.

"Mother, we've better things to do than hack at my hair," he said. "Perhaps after Thor is revived and we have time to sit together. He'll plan the war, and I..." Loki sighed. "For once, I can only hope to be content."

"We'll avenge him, you'll see," Frigga promised as she gestured for the guards to open up the gates. They both did a double-take at the sight of Loki—then hung their heads in grief at the sight of what followed after him. Frigga bit her lip.

"We'll wage war on them all," she murmured. "I'll have their heads _myself._ We haven't had a good war in _centuries,_ but for my _son_ , my _Thor_ —"

"It was not Midgard, mother," Loki cut in, though he had no idea why, "it was S.H.I.E.L.D.; an order upon Earth. Sort of like our Warriors Three, but more conniving and vicious, and less prone to eating half the feast singlehandedly, or seducing half the maids there."

"Regardless, I'll have _their_ heads then," Frigga said with grim satisfaction. "He was my son and your brother, Loki. You and I will see to this, even if your father does not."

The relief at his mother's aid, at least, took a burden off of Loki's shoulders he hadn't known existed before. He smiled—it was small and thin, but genuine, and Frigga embraced him, burying her fists into his leather longcoat. 

"My _son_ ," she whispered, "you are my son as well, my Loki, and I have missed you dearly."

"And I in kind, my mother," Loki replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

They had one more moment together in peace before Loki felt a sword at his neck. He sighed. 

"Typical," he remarked. "Sif, if you might—"

 _"Get away from the queen_ ," she snarled, "or I'll kill you myself _, kinslayer_."

Loki hadn't wanted to lose his temper; they thought ill of him enough, and encouraging them seemed like a horrible idea. However, there was only so much he could handle, and  that had stuck a knife right in his endurance.

"I would _never!_ " He roared, turning on her and knocking the sword from her hand. "Wretched woman, he was _mine,_ my golden lion, my brave Thor, and I would have _never—_ "

"Then what was your fight on the Bifrost, a lovers' spat?" She snarled in kind. 

_If only._

"You know not of what transpired there—I never meant to kill him, _never_ —it was your bloody _Frost Giants_ I meant to murder and you seemed _quite all right with that_ a few days _before_ , hadn't you?" He spat back, his eyes vicious and his bearing tense, aggressive—if he had brought a weapon, it would have come to blows already. He could feel his mother's hand on his shoulder, and it calmed him, but not enough.

"Your precious _Midgardians_ killed brave, beautiful Thor—not I, _never_ I, he was my _brother,_ the fool, and he wanted freedom. He broke free of the cage Midgard had placed him in, and for that, they killed him. They killed a king who wanted freedom, and _I am the monster_?" Loki hissed. 

Sif still looked hateful, but she hadn't picked up her sword. Loki would take that as a good sign, knowing her.

"I stole him away and brought him back in the hopes of reviving him. I came right back here, even under the threat of _death_ , to bring my golden Thor _home,_ to give him life anew, and _I'm_ the monster? I would stand in the throne room and gladly let Odin lop my head off right then and there should I know Thor would live in the bargain! And _I'm_ the monster?" Loki roared.

"Loki, my child, he would never—" Frigga was cut off as Loki turned around to face her. His eyes were red, and from the edges of his face, sapphire had begun to seep in.

" _Wouldn't he_ , mother? Weren't we all told tales of the Allfather, slaying the Jotun in some great war or another? What's one more? After everything he's done, after everything _I've_ done, what's one more monster? He's waited long enough to deliver the blow, don't you think?" Loki retorted. His tone was harsh, but his mother forgave him; she could see the tears in his eyes.

"No, Loki. He will not harm you. We have mourned for you. To see you home again...it will be a grand and joyous affair, I assure you," Frigga whispered.

"Perhaps," Loki said, "or perhaps Odin will find he liked the idea of a dead son much better. It's easier to mourn me than acknowledge me, I should think."

Frigga could only squeeze his hand as she stroked his hair. Loki knew of the pain she must feel; even if they did not intend to harm, Jotun's skin could freeze an Aesir with ease. He had to calm himself, recast the glamour...for his mother's sake. 

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. After a minute, Loki's glamour, having slipped so fully in the midst of his rage, slid back on just as easily.

There was a pause, in which he regarded Frigga with wary, frightened eyes, shining wet with unshed tears. 

In response, Frigga kissed his forehead.

"Is that what you look like, truly?" She asked. "Those are beautiful runes upon your skin. I have never seen them up close. Might we translate them, sometime?"

"I..." Loki paused. "...Certainly," he finally agreed. "I take it the warriors are meant to be our escorts?"

"Indeed," Hogun said. "I cannot say it is good to see you, though."

"I don't think you've ever said that about anything, so I won't take it as an insult," Loki replied. 

Hogun's lips actually quirked into a small smile at that, however brief.

"It is good to see you, Loki," Volstagg said, and Loki felt a surge of gratitude; out of all of them, he had always liked Volstagg best. Though admittedly that was not saying much. "But I find your tidings a little less pleasing."

"Aye," Loki agreed. "I brought him back, but I know there will be grieving. Forgive me if I do not partake yet; we have to see to the Allfather."

_And truthfully, I have already grieved enough._

"Indeed," Fandral agreed, "and he has been sent word of news—though not the truth that you have arrived, nor what you've arrived _with_. Come, we should hurry."

Loki took Frigga's arm before she could offer it to him—she felt his muscles tense beneath his skin and she did her best to give him a soft, reassuring smile, though she knew from the drawn, fearful look on Loki's face that it might not help.

"My lady? Are you—" Sif was cut off as Frigga held up a hand.

"I understand your concerns, my dear warmaid, but he is my _son_. He has _always_ been my son, and he will always _be_ my son," Frigga said, her voice firm.

Loki didn't say anything, but the drawn, fearful look had left him. Frigga squeezed his arm.

The entire group made an odd procession as they made their way up to the main palace halls; Sif, face dark and eyes fierce, led, with Loki and Frigga behind her. The Warriors Three flanked Thor's casket, their heads down. Volstagg even wept, bright tears soaking into his thick beard.

The palace was just as enormous as Loki remembered it, though the entire atmosphere was permeated with something grey and heavy Loki could only assume was grief. It dulled the gold of the walls and roughened the ornate stones that made up the floor, and even darkened the very throne.

Upon that throne sat Odin Allfather, the King of Asgard, his staff in hand. The others knelt—Loki did not. Even in his fear, he met the Allfather's eyes, and he did not so much as incline his head to him.

"Thor is dead," he said. 

Odin's single eye widened. He still did not stir from his throne. Beside him, Huginn and Muginn cawed, shifting their wings.

"How?" Odin asked after another long, lingering moment of silence. Loki gestured, bringing the casket forth.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. hounds. They used what they had harvested of the Destroyer and turned it into a weapon to slay him. It was not Midgard that turned against him," Loki said, his voice quiet.

"Surprising you say that," Odin said. "It would be very easy for you to have Asgard wage war upon Midgard and benefit from the ashes."

"Would it bring Thor back?" Loki snapped. "Would it give me the vengeance upon S.H.I.E.L.D. I crave? No, Allfather, I am here for Thor, and Thor alone."

Odin leaned back in his throne. Loki couldn't read what went on in his single eye as he sat and thought.

"They killed him, then? When?" Odin asked. 

"A week ago upon Midgard," Loki replied. "He had tried to seek freedom after S.H.I.E.L.D. imprisoned him. He ran with his team, and they killed them all."

Odin was quiet for another minute longer.

"What would you have me do?" He asked. 

"Bring him back to me," Loki said. "Do with me what you will; kill me or imprison me or forget I ever existed, the stain upon the house of Odin, I care not. Thor will live. That is my one concern."

Odin closed his eye for a few minutes. 

If he had passed out again, Loki was going to take his staff and hammer him with it.

He opened it again just as Loki's fingers began to twitch, focusing his gaze upon him. Loki did not flinch, though within him, his heart tensed.

"There is a way," Odin finally said, his speech halting and slow. "It is an old way; the way before even my birth, before Bor himself."

"What would it require?" Loki asked. "If it is blood, you will have it. If it is magic, you may have that as well. If it is my very _life—_ "

"A vigil," Odin said, "a vigil for seven days in the hall of kings. If I lend him my power, he will rest the Odinsleep—or something akin to it. Upon the seventh day, he will be revived."

Odin sighed. "This power, however, is not without cost; it must be watched over, tended to, and guarded to ensure it does not harm the user. It is a great and terrible magic, requiring vigil for all seven days. It will not be a safe vigil, either. There is always the possibility of death, of madness, of things beyond even my knowledge."

"I will do it," Loki said immediately, his voice firm. "It is my vigil to keep and I'll fight anyone who disagrees."

"Loki, _please._.." Frigga begged. "I have lost one son. Please, do not make me lose another. Not again." 

"You'll have Thor back," Loki said. "No matter what happens, you will have Thor back. He is the better son, and you know it. Let it be enough."

"There is no such thing as a better son to a mother, my Loki," Frigga murmured. 

Loki flinched. There was genuine guilt in his eyes as he shook his head, looking away.

"Mother, please. It is _my fault_ he died. If I had never sent the Destroyer to Midgard, they would have never had the means to slay him. It is my fault, and thus, my vigil to keep. _Please._ For _Thor_ , please...I never wanted his _death,_ I swear..." He begged.

"Frigga, beloved, it is done," Odin interjected. "Loki will hold vigil. A brother's blood is the best to stand watch for magic like this."

"I am not his brother," Loki replied.

"You are not Aesir," Odin agreed. "But you are his brother. If he could speak, he would say the same." Odin closed his eye. "Since he cannot, I can. You are not Aesir. But you are Loki. You are part of this family, forsake us though you might."

"Kind words," Loki said, his voice like ice, "a little late."

There was silence in the throne room for a time.

"I will keep his vigil," Loki said. "He is my Thor. He has never stopped being my golden Thor, not after all this time. But you are no longer my father."

"Loki..." Odin looked like there was more he wanted to say, but whatever held him back—his kingship, years of regret, or shock and pain—made him fall silent immediately after. 

Loki held his head high as he gestured to the casket. 

"There are two on Earth who might be our allies; Phil, Son of Coul, and Pepper Potts. Huginn and Muginn must send them news of the vigil. And once you are done, meet me in the hall of kings," he said. "For Thor's sake."

He left, his leather whispering across the floor of the throne room. Odin watched him leave, pensive. Even Huginn and Muginn had fallen silent.

Finally Odin spoke, a heavy, agonized tone creeping into the king's voice as he leaned forward on his throne. 

"I do not wish to break our alliance immediately, nor spark war between the realms," Odin said, "especially if what my son says is true, and this is simply the work of one faction on Midgard. But we cannot let this go unheeded. I will need to send people to scout out what has happened and find allies—there is no doubt in my mind that there are at least a few surviving men and women that were allied with my son, as Loki has said." He sighed and massaged his temples.

"Frigga, I would request that you remain on Asgard with me. I need an ally—more importantly, I wish to try to get through to Loki, and it is clear he loves you still," he sighed. "Aside from that, we will need to make preparations for war, should it occur, and I would rather not undertake that alone."

"Understood, beloved," Frigga agreed. "Then whom do you wish to send?"

"Sif," he said, the warmaid looking up at her king, befuddled. "I would have you and the Warriors Three return to Midgard. The bridge is not repaired, but I will send you myself before I begin the vigil. That, I'm afraid, will tax my powers greatly, and it is thus best to send you off now."

"Agreed," Frigga said. "Send them, beloved; I will speak with the masters at arms about what might be done regarding forces."

"Thank you, darling," Odin said, his tone tender as he cupped Frigga's cheek. He looked haggard, but his wife gave him some measure of ease, that was plain. "Are you ready?"

"We are armored and have weaponry, my lord," Volstagg said, "but on the matter of provisions...I'd rather not negotiate with Midgardians in that regard. Thor mentioned his trouble with the matter."

"We'll be fine, your majesty," Sif said, giving Volstagg a look. "I'd rather we leave immediately."

"Understood," Odin agreed. "I will give you a few minutes to make your preparations. We meet at the end of the Bifrost."

They all bowed to him and left, until only Frigga and Odin remained in the throne room. He looked at his wife, worn and in pain.

"Is he...has he spoken of me?" Odin haphazarded, hesitant. "I do not wish to assume, I know what I have done, but...I had hoped, perhaps..."

"There is hope, my dove," Frigga said, though she felt as if she might be stretching the truth on that one. "I will not lie to you; it was a grievous breach of trust, and the truth is, he had wanted your comforts _then_ , not now. If he might still accept them, I am uncertain, but there is no harm in trying while he is here."

"Thank you, beloved," Odin murmured. "It is your counsel I have always valued the most, especially on matters like this." 

He pressed a gentle kiss to her brow before he gripped her hand. 

"I will be back shortly," he promised. "After the vigil, my magic will be spent, but my mind, hopefully, will not. We will speak of war then."

Frigga smiled, thin and vicious.

"Hopefully," she agreed. "For both my sons."

Odin stood and left, Huginn and Muginn trailing behind him, cawing triumphantly as the Allfather went to send his warriors forward.

...

Sif sighed and shot Volstagg a look.

"Did we need to bring the entirety of the kitchens with us?" She asked. Volstagg puffed up, defensive.

"These were gifts from my lady wife and children!" He defended himself. "They do not want their husband and father going off to war ill-fed, do they?"

"Your poor lady wife," Hogun remarked. "She has made enough for ten men at least."

"Well she made enough to share, and besides, most of these were leftovers from last night's feast. I would sooner starve myself than let my brothers go hungry!" Volstagg protested. Sif laughed.

"I believe you, but I pity your wife, truly," she said. "If I spent as much time in the kitchens as her, I'd go quite mad."

"It is not your way, Lady Sif, but she enjoys it. I would rather go hungry than force my wife to do something she does not enjoy," Volstagg said, solemn.

"Fair enough," Sif agreed. "Regardless, the provisions are a bit in excess—though, truth be told, we don't know how long we will be gone, and I'd rather have excess than starve."

"Agreed," they chorused. Hogun looked hesitant, however.

"If the vigil is to last seven days, surely he intends for us to return then?" He said.

"Perhaps," Odin's voice cut through them all, making them jump, "but not for certain." 

They turned around to face their king; he looked exhausted, but his one good eye sparkled with an inner fire, giving them some relief.

"When Thor awakens," he said, "I shall get the story from my son. Anything Loki does not know of or manipulated to perhaps win my aid will come to light, and thus, we will take further action from there. If the actions involve war, you will remain on Midgard and amass as many allies as you can."

"We understand, Allfather," Sif said. "We will do what we can and scout for Thor's allies."

"Be safe and go with caution," Odin advised them, "for if Thor has allies, it is also true he has enemies as well." A grim smile reached his lips. "I cannot hold another four vigils, my warriors."

"Understood, Allfather," Sif murmured, her voice sad and soft. "Please...take care of him."

"I will," Odin said. "Can you trust that Loki will do the same?"

She flinched. Odin put a hand on her shoulder.

"Go, Sif," he said. "All will be well when you return, my warriors."

They all bowed to him before suddenly, they were gone; Odin's magic had delivered them back to Midgard.

Heimdall stood upon the dais, watching his king. Odin sighed and met his gaze.

"How are my sons?" He asked. Heimdall sighed.

"His grief is genuine," Heimdall said. "He weeps for him like a widow at her husband's casket. Best not to mention this to him, you know of his vanity." He shook his head. "As for the vigil...he has entered the hall of kings and not budged from Thor's side since."

"Thank you, old friend," Odin said. "It was what I needed to hear."

"It is true, my king," Heimdall replied. 

"And I needed to hear that, as well," Odin murmured. "Fare thee well, Heimdall. Watch over our warriors."

"I will," Heimdall agreed. "If there is news, I will send for you as soon as I am able."

"Thank you," Odin responded, sighing heavily as he beckoned to Huginn and Muginn. "We can only hope this might not come to an all-out war."

"I am afraid even I am not capable of seeing that, my king," Heimdall told him.

Odin nodded in agreement and left the Bifrost with a heavy heart, his step weighed down by worry and loss.

...

Frigga met him at the doors to the hall of kings, taking his face into her hands.

"I spoke with the master at arms," she said. "He said he will marshall our forces and inform them of the death of our son. Thor's death will spur them forward, I am sure of it." Tears filled her eyes. "Beloved, please. My _sons_..."

"They will live, Frigga," Odin said, his voice low and gentle. "Both of your boys will live."

" _Your_ sons as well, my dove. Even if Loki believes otherwise." Frigga admonished him gently. Odin did not say a word. She sighed and shooed him off. "Go see to the vigil. I will speak with the Valkyrie."

"Thank you, beloved. I will be back as soon as I am able," Odin promised, giving her cheek a soft kiss. "Until then."

She watched him disappear into the hall of kings with a sigh, smoothing out her skirts and heading off herself. This was Odin's battle, she knew that. Loki had made his peace with her, but his father...

She shook it from her thoughts and headed off to the Valkyrie's training grounds, her footfalls echoing off the grand hall around her.


	6. The Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Odin talk. Loki learns some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Thorki fluff kind of technically sort of.  
> Don't worry, this obviously isn't all you'll get from them couples-wise, but it's a good start, yeah?  
> And fear not, Loki and Odin have much to discuss as well. It'll be fun later. <3  
> Lemme put it this way; there is literally no way these two would ever be able to solve shit and resolve each other unless they were completely bared to one another like this; which they are, now. So hey. It works!

Odin strode into the hall of kings, his footfalls quiet enough that for a moment, Loki did not notice him. True to Heimdall's words, he had not so much as moved away from the casket, and shattered crystalline droplets fed the floors, glimmering dully in the golden light. Tears, then? Perhaps they did weep ice. Odin had never seen a Jotun weep. The thought saddened him somewhat, though he wasn't sure why.

Loki looked up at him, his eyes clear. That meant nothing; Odin knew he would not be privy to his son's tears, though he had been in the past. Though he would not like to admit it, the past was done, and even if the future might be brighter than he assumed...the memories of his son's trust would more likely than not remain just that.

"Loki," he said. "I will not lie to you—"

"It is good to see you've recently implemented _that_ policy," Loki cut him off, his tone bitter. Odin sighed.

"There will be time for your pithy remarks and discussion of what I did or did not do later, Loki," he said. Loki's eyes flickered with mistrust, and Odin could see him pulling away already. He wanted to cry out, to beg his son to stay, or to at least to stop drawing away from him, even in his eyes. He sighed. "For now, we must save Thor."

Loki nodded, his jaw firm and his eyes burning. Odin came to stand beside the casket, and before Loki could stop himself, he grabbed his arm. Odin turned to look at him, his expression grave and mournful, but understanding.

"It is you that I hurt," Odin murmured, "not him, Loki. If you hate me for what I have done to you, very well, but _never_ Thor. I would have never..."

He trailed off into silence. Loki pursed his lips, gripping the casket beneath him.

"Then heal him, Odin," Loki told him. "Heal him and hope for your son." 

"My _sons_ will be fine," Odin replied. "Rest, Loki. Your life will meld with his during this vigil; it will be painful, and it will consume you entirely. In truth, either both of you pull through this, or neither of you will. And you still wish to undertake this?"

"For Thor. For Thor, for my golden Thor, anything. And if this should not work, better to die with him." Loki replied. Odin sighed.

"Your mother shall not think so," he said, "so do your best to live, both of you." He laid a hand on Thor's casket.

"Watch over him," he said quietly to his son, so soft even Loki could not hear, "for you were always the one to do it best, and now I...I cannot."

His hands shook as he grasped the casket, power beginning to seep from his entire body and lighting up the entire hall of kings. All the kings of old looked down upon Odin as he gave all his power to begin the vigil. In one hand, he grasped Loki's shoulder; in the other, Thor's casket.

Loki groaned in agony, gripping the casket for strength. For a few more seconds, the power coursed through both of his sons, making them glow in all the colors Odin could name of all nine realms and a few he could not, until suddenly, with a sharp, shuddering jerk, Loki collapsed beneath him, gripping Thor's casket.

Odin watched as Loki's eyes fluttered open, glowing gold. He put a hand on his son's cheek, waiting and curious. Loki did not move.

Odin bent down and brushed his lips against Loki's forehead before he left the room in a swirl of his golden cloak, Huginn and Muginn flying after him and cawing, the cries echoing through the hall.

...

Frigga found Odin again, standing on the edge of the Bifrost. He held a cup of mulled mead in his hand, idly sipping it as he looked into the abyss. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"It is done?" She asked, curious despite almost dreading his answer. Odin nodded, sighing quietly. 

"It is done," he replied. "We must talk, him and I."

"After," Frigga comforted him. "After Thor lives, my love. Loki will remain on Asgard for a short while after—he will need to recuperate. This vigil will take much from him. Heal him. Talk to him then. He needs to know you love him, even if he can never trust again."

"Wise words, my lady love. Then again...this was always your battlefield, my darling." Odin sighed. "They will be fine. I refuse to believe otherwise. My love, do not worry. We will be quite all right." He kissed her forehead. "Please accompany me back inside. I would rather not be alone."

Frigga took his hand and smiled warmly.

"Of course, beloved," she promised, "now, walk with me? We have made this stroll before, have we not?"

"In another time," Odin agreed. "When I courted you I walked along this bridge, roses in hand..."

"Oh, you old romantic," Frigga teased, lightly slapping his shoulder. "Come, dove. We've much to discuss."

The two of them walked arm in arm back up the Bifrost. Before they did, however, Odin took his cup and poured the rest of the mulled mead into the abyss as one last offering. 

...

Loki was life and he was death. He was the dusk and the rain, the summer morning and the edge of twilight; he was Loki and he was _Thor_. 

Thor, Thor, golden grand and beautiful Thor, his lion, his brave, strong lion...he was all of Thor's beauty and grace, and all of his strength as well. He was war and storms, he was the hammer and the pain, and yet...

He was a kind hand stroking back hair from fevered forehead, a kiss to a young boy's brow after being beaten at the sticks, a warm hand pressing a cool knife into that same boy's palm, a voice whispering encouragement and pride. He was a brother, he was bravery, he was savagery and peace, a strong hand and a kind word to his brother, the one who needed it most.

He was Thor and he was Loki. He felt his own darkness, was forced to confront exactly what he was—a pale shadow, a poor imitation of his brother at best, better at squirreling away in the dark, musty libraries of the palace, holed up reading, or flitting about as a magpie might, snatching up gossip and storing it away for later, when he needed a favor, a knife between the ribs, silky words for coarse deaths. 

He had fought and he had killed, he had slaughtered and he had gone mad for a time, mad with realization, with betrayal, with a father's love being pulled away from him so sudden and sharp, to leave him in the cold and grasping for warmth, any warmth, be it even the warmth of blood.

Vengeance, yes, he had enacted vengeance upon his father, his people—no, not his people, he was not one of them, he would not be, but...what else for him now? He was no longer Aesir...he was nothing. He was a trickster, a liesmith, a _monster._..

Yes, a monster in word and in deed, indeed, for who but a craven monster would desire their brother the way maidens desired men; who but a monster of ice and snow and suffering would crave their brother between their legs to warm the chill, not a maid nor someone not of their kin, at the very _least_? What did it truly matter if they were not brothers of blood? They had been raised together, nursed together, taught together, they had played and fought and triumphed together, and yet...it had never been enough to keep him away from Thor. Not in that way.

No, he had desired his brother perhaps since they were children, though he could never put words to the desire, of course...and yet, there was no hiding it now, no sharp barbs he could use to make his brother leave him be as much as his loins ached for him to stay, nowhere to hide when his desire overtook him, for they were interwined now, soul to soul, Thor's life craving Loki's own so that he might live again. There was nowhere to hide his love for his brother here.

He shrunk away from Thor as much as he wanted so desperately to remain. He did not deserve to be here; a slinking snake in the darkness could never be so close to a lion of the light. He dared impugn such beauty with all that he was? He could not...

But as he drew away, he felt something pulling him back. 

Loki's soul quailed beneath it; the essence surrounded him in golden waves, gentle and and loving. It enfolded him, like a bird gathering its young beneath its wings, or a mother embracing her child, and held him close—his soul, for all its darkness, the icy jagged pieces that shone sharp and deadly, was _wanted_ , was _loved_. 

Loki ached, clinging to that golden warmth, aware of a warm, pleased hum as he did. There were no words in this place; the soul was not words, but instead thoughts and feelings, all that went unspoken. But when it pulsed around him, he felt _Loki, my Loki_ , whispering over his own battered soul, smoothing the rough edges out and filling in the cracks and crevasses with warm golden light.

 _Thor,_ Loki's soul cried out, in the language of lions and warm summer mornings together, _Thor, my Thor, my golden Thor..._

He did not draw away. No longer could he even dream of it, not knowing how desperately Thor loved him.

All the desire he had felt was returned in kind. Thor could not hide from him here, no more than he could hide from Thor, and so he felt his brother's love, his brother's desperate burning desire, soothing him and stirring him all at once in the warm, secret places he had never dared explore. 

He felt Thor, a young man with his shame, for as his friends chased maidens, he lusted only for the pale, fair man curled up in the great window of the library's wall, watching him train out of the corner of his eye as he buried himself in one great big book or another. He could feel his brother's confusion and hurt when Loki pushed him away; his fears, his worries that Loki might know, might understand how Thor hungered for him, clothed in his soft silks and supple leathers, as beautiful and fair of face as any maid Thor might claim?

 _Oh, you brave, bold fool. If only I_ had _known._

It was spoken in regret and sorrow, in understanding and forgiveness. Loki did not begrudge what he saw of Thor next; his frustrations and his lashing out, his inner turmoil that made to consume him. 

He felt his brother's love, though. Above all else, above the war, above the bloodlust, above the repentance and epiphany and sorrow...he felt his love. He felt the warmth of the rivers they had played in together, the summer sun dappling their skin in the same gold shades of dawn, the softness of their capes as they rode together, the two of them chasing after the same great prey, shouting jests to each other as the forest bent before them, recognizing its kings. 

He felt the happiness of the few fleeting moments where Loki would share with Thor a chapter from a book, imparting all its knowledge upon him—or, rarer still, Loki reading to him, worn down by Thor's pleas. He felt Thor's sheer delight as he read to him, his words winding about them both like the rivers of summer, lighting them up from the inside out.

Love, love, so much love; stealing cakes from the kitchens together, chasing after the merchants' dogs in the golden streets of Asgard, tussling with each other in dusty training fields after all the others had gone, spending time with their mother, enjoying a quiet day alone, together, as the rain fell about them and they lazed about, reading...

And the love, then, that he had never understood. The love that persisted into adulthood, even after it was clear they were no longer brothers, equal under the same mother, the same joys of princehood. He had never seen, but it had always been there. Thor had always loved him, always...even until the end. Even until the fall.

And forever after.

Loki knew then as he was embraced in the grasp of Thor's soul, so golden and beautiful, the one secret he would never share, not for any favor, nor to gain any crown; Thor had died with his name on his lips. In his last moments, Loki had been with his brother in the strongest way the Silvertongue could have been—with his words, if not his love. Yes, Thor had known—and Thor had loved him.

Love, yes—all of it, for Thor, the mighty Thor, had deemed him worthy. Everything else fell away from Loki but the love, and that alone threatened to overwhelm him, consume him with the bright flames of realization and desire. Thor loved him, and he was loved in return...Thor thought him _worthy_ , an _equal.._.Thor loved him _, Thor loved him..._

Loki cried out, but only summer light fell past his lips. It was enough. The soul entwined with his thrummed in recognition, in understanding, and Loki knew that just this once, he had no need of words.


	7. Midnight Pickup Truck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another crashlanding. A meeting, an explanation, and threats of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed by now, I like one thing, and that is lesbians.   
> Oh and some other stuff. But lesbians are high up there.  
> And I love Darcy so much. So...there you have this chapter.  
> I told y'all, this is basically a bunch of the non-title characters in the MCU doing things. Hope it's still a good read!  
> Also: had to extrapolate myself on their characters a bit, (Jane and Darcy I mean.) This is sort of how I see their relationship going, so...y'know, bear with me, guys.

Frigga sat at the edge of her bed, bitter tears in her eyes. Odin came to her, kneeling at her side and taking her hands. She still wore Loki's furs wrapped around her shoulders, despite the warmth of the room. Odin did not even dare suggest she take them off.

"You worry," he said, his voice grave. "My love, I reassured you for a reason; they will not die. It will do you no good to fear. You have mourned for these boys enough; I would not see my dove mourn longer."

"I know, beloved..." Frigga sighed and shook her head. How could she explain a mother's fears, a mother's worry? It was not rational, and even as her mind cowered in fear it protested this fuss; she knew it was foolish, and yet...

She would either gain back both her sons, whole and safe...or lose them both forever. They would dine in Valhalla, she promised herself, a warm golden realm where they would be together as equals, fighting side by side for all eternity. But they would be far from her arms, farther than she could commandeer any ships to bring them home from, farther than she could ride and save them. They would come back to her now or be lost, far beyond where a mother's love could reach.

That was the root of her grief, rotted and raw; all her love would not be able to reach them should they reign over the halls of Valhalla, nor her grief at their loss. They would be farther from her than even her magic, her own godhood, could be enough to bring them home. If they died now, they went into the dark without her. The last thing she wanted was to see her boys alone...

A soft sob passed her lips. Odin cupped her cheek and shook his head.

"They will never be alone," he promised her. "Beloved, they have each other. They have always had each other, even in ways we could not. If our Thor rides into the halls of Valhalla at the end of this vigil, so does our Loki."

"It is not enough," she whispered. "Not without their mother..."

"I know, my love. I am sure they think the same. But at least they will not be alone. I promise you this. And when they return, for I swear they will...we will all be together." Odin promised.

It would never be the same, but that was not something he needed to tell his lady wife. She was clever, a cunning sort in her own right; she knew. 

They could heal though, and build anew. 

Odin had spent thousands of years building up a castle, a home. He could certainly do it again. He saw himself with no other choice.

He kissed her forehead and guided her into bed as he remarked, "The Lady Sif and her Warriors Three have arrived on Midgard, my love. That, at least, may be the beginning of vengeance. If nothing else."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has snatched our king from us, and that alone would mean war," Frigga said. She narrowed her eyes, the golden irises becoming sharp and harsh as she looked out over the soft twilight of Asgard. 

"But they took my _son_ from me," she said, "and should that action take both of them away...I will see to a slaughter."

Odin sighed and stroked her hair.

"Aye," he agreed. "I would expect nothing less."

...

"I'm cold."

"Darcy, dear, you're in the middle of New Mexico. No you're not." 

"Jane, I'm serious!" Darcy complained, curling up in the front seat beside her girlfriend as she drove through the dusty streets. "Why are we even _here?_ The whole place got trashed last year, you know that, and that includes whatever you think we left behind!"

Jane sighed, making a sharp right as she turned to look at Darcy. She pouted, snuggling up into her coat as Jane drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

"Darce, I don't think we left anything behind; I think something came looking for us. I got a spike in the readings around here on the monitors I've kept trained on Puente Antiguo in the hopes of another surge...and it's exactly like Thor's. A bit stronger, though..." She frowned. Darcy huffed.

"Christ, if it's stronger than Thor, we're all gonna die." She remarked, pulling her knit hat down a bit firmer. "Jane? You don't think, maybe...?"

"I haven't heard from Thor since he broke away from S.H.I.E.L.D.," Jane murmured, regret and fear lacing her tone. "I know they had to lay low, but...well, I worry."

"We both do, babe. It's all right. We've got a nice warm hotel room thirty miles from here and Erik's probably making hot chocolate for us as we speak. Don't worry. Even if we find something, it'll be good. Like I dunno...winged horses or somethin'. I've always wanted a pony." Darcy brightened up. "Hey, maybe we could—"

"Absolutely not," Jane replied. "It would destroy my equipment in a week. Didn't I tell you we could get fish?"

"Fuck your fish, what are fish going to do but waste water and glub at me?" Darcy protested. "C'mon, at least a cat?"

"A capricious beast who would chew on my wiring and piss on my computers? No thank you." Jane said, checking her readings. Darcy groaned.

"A dog, then? Or at _least_ a snake?" She begged.

"A snake actually isn't a terrible idea, but a dog would be a re-tread of the cat, only with less capriciousness and more begging for food," Jane sighed. "In any case, we've got bigger concerns, don't we?"

"Yeah, I guess. But don't think you're getting out of this, smartypants!" Darcy said. Jane smiled and gave her a quick, soft kiss as they headed for the outskirts of town, driving through the ashes of all the former buildings. 

"No, I know. We'll have time for this later, Darcy. Once this is all solved..." She sighed. "Once we know what this is..."

"Something else'll come up, don't lie. Something always does. And you'll just...y'know. Ignore me again." Darcy mumbled. Jane winced and pulled over, killing the engine and looking at Darcy, hurt clear in her eyes.

"Oh, honey no...I'm so sorry," she murmured as she embraced her. "I don't mean to get so wrapped up in my work, but that's no excuse. I'm so sorry..."

Darcy shook a little, nuzzling Jane's neck in a desperate bid for comfort.

"C'mon babe, you're all I got...don't leave me, okay? I'm sorry, honest; if it's my fault..." Darcy trailed off as Jane kissed her forehead.

"No, no it isn't," Jane replied, guilt lancing her heart as she spoke. There were times where she forgot the reality before her; she had been raised on her father's knee into a life of science, of analysis, of the ways of hard facts and critical thinking. Darcy hadn't had anyone to raise her much in the way of anything. 

"Sweetheart, it's not your fault," she repeated, "it's mine. I'm not used to trying to be a girlfriend first and a scientist second, and it's hard. I don't mean to hurt you in the process, Darcy...but that's no excuse. I'll try harder, I swear." She kissed both her cheeks and gave her a warm smile.

"Once we check this out, we'll go back to the hotel for some cocoa, and in a few weeks we'll make time to go on a nice long drive somewhere, just for the two of us. Okay?" She promised. Darcy nodded, furiously rubbing at her eyes.

"Okay..." She agreed, giving Jane a shy, tender kiss. "Love you."

"And I love you, sweetheart. Now let's go check this out as quick as we can, okay?" She said. Darcy nodded, settling in and crossing her legs on the seat, humming contentedly as they drove beneath the starry sky, towards whatever awaited them past Puente Antiguo.

...

Sif spat out dirt and wiped blood from her mouth as she stood up, adjusting her sword upon her belt.

"Is everyone all right?" She asked, looking about. Fandral winced as he stood up, coming to stand beside her.

"Yes, but my landing could have been a bit more graceful," he remarked. "Volstagg? Hogun?"

"I am well, as is my wife's cooking!" Volstagg boomed, rising to his feet and brushing dust off his lapel. "Hogun, my brother?"

"I have been worse," he remarked, checking for his weapons. "Lady Sif, where are we to go from here?"

"This place looks familiar," Sif replied, pacing about. "Yes...it seems like we've arrived back in that Midgardian town. The one Thor spent time residing in..."

Even his name made their hearts ache. Sif bit her lip.

"Loki will fix him, my dear maid, you'll see!" Volstagg promised. "I know what you think of him, but let it never be said he does not love Thor!"

"He _turned on him_!" Sif snapped, turning to face Volstagg. "He turned on him and _usurped the throne_ when Thor was vulnerable!"

"True, there was some underhanded dealings involved upon Midgard—deceit about the Allfather's death, for one. But Loki _was_ the rightful heir at that point. And besides..." Volstagg sighed, trailing off as Hogun shook his head.

"Love that deep can sour more bitterly than any other force on any realm," Hogun continued. "The two of them run deeper than the roots of Yggdrasil. There is much room for poison and pain—but great potential for renewal and forgiveness as well."

"...Admitted," Sif agreed. "But damn it, I don't have to _like_ it."

"None of us do. But if his love is true and strong, we can only hope it will save our king. And who knows? It might remove the stick from Loki's tight posterior as well." Fandral remarked, his tone dry. 

"You have spent _far_ too much time considering the tightness of his fair bottom, Fandral. Bored of maids?" Sif teased. He snorted.

"What, with you around? I should never grow bored of other maids. The moment I see you I become grateful the rest don't attempt to beat me about the head with their swords." Fandral remarked. Sif patted his shoulder.

"For the good of the ladies of the realm, my friend," she teased. Fandral laughed.

"See, now _there's_ where you start to sound like a real warrior. Interested in doing more than protecting, my fair maid?" He retorted.

She glared viciously at him. Fandral patted her shoulder in kind.

"I know a few. Or at least that was their excuse when I attempted to bed them. You could meet, share a cup of mead, complain about me. I know that's your favorite past-time." He teased. She rolled her eyes.

"Sexual preferences and pleasures aside, we need to set out. Even if the town is destroyed, we might find survivors," she told them. "Regardless, it is not a half-bad place to make camp, should it come to that."

"Agreed," they chorused. Volstagg raised his sword.

"So set off, then!" He boomed, eager. They all followed in kind, sharing smiles and jests as they marched, ignoring the bitter cloud of their dearest friend's death lying over their heads, heavy and painful to bear—as well as the reminder that the only person they could trust with his life was the last person they would trust with absolutely _anything._

...

Darcy was the first one to see them, since Jane was focused on the road, not the men and woman bedecked in shiny armor and clanking with weapons, dragging a cart of food behind them.

She rolled down her window before Jane could stop her, yelling, "HEY! Hey, yeah! Norse dudes and dudette! We're Thor's buddies!"

Jane hit the brakes and yanked Darcy back into the car, giving her a sharp look.

"Did you forget your common sense in the other truck, Darce? Don't lean out of the car and yell at strangers, we've talked about this—"

"No, Jane, for real! It's Thor's friends, look!" She pointed. "That's why the signal was so strong—there's four of 'em!"

Jane sighed and unlocked the car, killing the ignition and following after Darcy, who had already bounded up to them. Darcy grinned, adjusting her jacket and proffering a gloved hand.

"Hey, dudes. Good to see you again. What brings you to the middle of nowhere? It can't be for the weather; it's fucking Antarctica here at night and Satan's asshole in the morning," she asked. 

Sif paused, her eyes darkening. Jane approached them, hesitant. She didn't like the look on the warrior maid's face one bit.

"...Our shieldbrother Thor is dead," she finally said. "He was slain by the hounds of the organization you call S.H.I.E.L.D., and now his brother Loki sits vigil beside him in an attempt to restore life to his fallen body."

Darcy's hand dropped, her eyes going wide. She raised it again, trembling, to her mouth, as tears filled her eyes.

"No, no...not him. Jane, tell them to stop..." She demanded. "Guys, that's not cool, he was our friend...you wouldn't come down here just to screw with us, right...?"

Jane's hands shook. Tears pricked at her eyes, and when she opened her mouth, a raw, wet little gasp emerged, agonized and trembling.

"Thor?" She whispered. "Thor, no...they wouldn't...Phil wouldn't..."

"The Son of Coul? Thor spoke of him. It was not him, we hold that in good faith; he was our ally from the start. But from the word Thor sent to Asgard before his fall, perhaps this man of Fury was not." Sif replied. "Are you going to be well, my lady?"

"Fine, I'm...fine. I'm made of s-stronger stuff than that..." Jane murmured, though in truth, her heart seemed to protest otherwise. Not Thor; not fair, golden Thor, whom she had regarded so highly. He had proven her right, shown her worlds she had never known existed, given her hope in her work...and in a sense, she had loved him. But even on Earth, she had known his heart had belonged to another—and hers, as well.

"He may well wake," Sif soothed her. "It all depends on the vigil. The Allfather's magic is strong; he shall heal."

"I...I hope so, I do..." Jane murmured. "I just...I don't know what to do. We almost went to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but..."

"Phil said no," Darcy piped up. "I always wondered why, too. He liked you, once you two stopped squabbling."

"He did," she said. "And I...I liked him too." Jane swallowed, fearful. "Is he—"

"Forgive me, my lady, but we do not know," Volstagg cut in, shaking his head. "We only know of Thor's death. If there are ways to contact the others of his team, we know them not. We came here to seek allies, however..."

Thor. They had killed Thor. Brave, strong Thor, who gave her hope and strength, who had found her worthy. 

Jane managed a smile, and it was one Sif could respect; one full of blood and vicious, battle-starved determination.

"Well, you've found some," she said, her voice firm and strong. "Would you like to come back with us to our hotel? There is hot chocolate there, and time to explain yourselves."

"Splendid!" Volstagg cheered. Jane smiled again, a warm, genuine one this time as she wrapped an arm around Darcy's waist. If a flicker of pained disappointment flickered through Sif's expression, the only one who noticed was Fandral, and for the sake of his lady's dignity, he did not make note of it.

"C'mon, guys. Let's get you all set up in the car..." She said, helping Volstagg lift the crate of food he had insisted on bringing as they headed back as a group to the pickup truck.

A few minutes later, Darcy and Jane sat up front as the Warriors Three, Sif, and the stalwart crate of food reclined in the bed of the pickup truck, looking up at the stars and settling in together, at peace for a brief moment.


	8. Matters at Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Threesomes are also high up on the list of things I like.  
> Anyways, so Sif is not quite lesbian, not quite trans*; she's not agendered either. To be honest, she thinks of herself as a man because she's a warrior, but she's not at war with her own body or having any issues with her biological sex. She's more...almost bigendered, I'd say. I'm cis, so I honestly don't have any personal perspective on this, it's just my interpretation.  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter regardless. :)

Erik Selvig frowned, adjusting the gas on the stove as he heard a knock at the door. Darcy and Jane were back already? He'd just gotten the kettle to boil...

"Come in, girls," he said. "Did the trip go well?"

He heard the door open. There were far more than two sets of footsteps walking across his hotel room. Selvig tensed despite himself, turning around slowly to see the Warriors Three, Sif, and Darcy and Jane. Both his girls had tearstains on their faces, shining fresh and raw.

"...Girls?" He said, hesitant. Jane smiled, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Hey, Erik," she said. "Put the kettle on for a few more guests, won't you?"

"...Of course, dear," he said, taking it off the stove to fill it up some more in the sink. "What happened?"

"Thor is dead," Sif said, her voice flat. "Murdered by the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D., presumably with the rest of his comrades."

Selvig dropped the kettle. Thankfully, the teakettle was steel, a strong thing; he could pick it back up and refill it, his hands shaking all the while.

"I...I see," he said. "Doctor Banner, then; is he..."

"We assume his comrades were killed as well," Sif murmured. "If they could fell a god-king, nothing else would pose much of a challenge, now would it?"

"I assume not," he agreed, his shoulders slumping. Sif bowed her head in acknowledgement of his grief.

Selvig closed his eyes and sighed heavily as he put on the teakettle. He gestured to the beds as it began to boil again, offering, "Sit, won't you? I think we should hear this story."

"Indeed," Volstagg agreed, solemn, "and we brought food as well, like proper guests."

"Allfather forbid we go to Midgard like savages, without a banquet behind us." Hogun remarked. Volstagg huffed, opening the crate of food.

"It would be impolite, of that I'm certain," Volstagg agreed, his voice prim. Hogun chuckled, though there was not much laughter to be had in the room; certainly not for Hogun the Grim. Darcy had curled up in Jane's lap, not speaking. Sif put a careful hand on Jane's shoulder.

"He will be just fine, my lady," Sif promised. "Loki sits vigil for him. The Allfather's magic will revive him."

"Loki? You mean the guy who tried to kill him?" Darcy said. Sif chuckled.

"'Tis what I said, little one. But they are brothers still, and that kind of magic runs deep. It may have been the best choice, though not one I confess that I like." She grumbled. Darcy nodded.

"Yeah, I figure. So...how long until it works?" Darcy asked, watching as Selvig took out mugs and began to pour boiling water and milk, mixing it together and adding cocoa powder. 

"Seven days. Once that has been accomplished, then...either they will both live or they will both find themselves at Valhalla's gates, we can hope. Until then, we will not know of their fates; regardless, the vigil has begun, and it is too late to stop it." Sif said. Darcy nodded.

"Okay, I guess. It's better than not getting him back at all..." She sighed. "I'm really tired..."

"Me too, love, but we should at least figure out a plan. What do we do now? I can't stand by and let S.H.I.E.L.D. get away with this..." Jane murmured. "Why did Thor run, damn it? Why did any of them?"

"A man must be free," Sif said gravely. "Thor was a warrior and a king, surrounded by his comrades, good men and brave women. They needed freedom."

"I...suppose," Jane agreed. "There has to be more, though; so much more to make such a risk..."

"Perhaps," Sif replied. "If there is more to this tale than we know, Thor will tell us. That said, we should prepare to fight in the absence of our king and his comrades."

"Our first step is finding the others," Erik said, coming over with a tray of cocoa. Jane took one for Darcy before getting her own; Sif handed it to her, wordless. Jane gave her a smile of gratitude before she took a sip. 

"Whom still lives, Erik?" Volstagg asked. "You are a man of knowledge; surely you know...?"

"Not that kind of knowledge, Volstagg, but thank you. I still have Coulson's number; it's worth a try. If no one replies, we assume the line's bugged and leave it at that...but it's sure as hell worth a shot," Selvig said. Jane nodded.

"Yeah, we'll call him in the morning, see if he's...well, okay," she murmured, stretching out and yawning. "So, this might seem like a dumb question, but do you guys...y'know, sleep in that armor, or..."

"There are more comfortable tunics beneath the armor," Sif replied. "It is simply a matter of taking it off; hard to do gracefully on your own, I will admit."

"I could help!" Darcy piped up. "Jane, c'mon, get off your butt and help out so we can all go to bed."

"All right, all right..." Jane yawned again and stretched, getting up to help. Volstagg was already undoing the clasps on Hogun's armor; Darcy went on tiptoe to aid Fandral. That left Jane with Sif.

She watched her, hesitant for a second. Sif chuckled.

"I do not bite, little maid," she murmured. Jane nodded, her hair falling in her face.

"R-right. Ah, damn...where are the clasps...?" She muttered. Sif tapped her shoulders. 

"Start there, my lady. The rest will become apparent; it is not complex, I assure you." She soothed her. Jane nodded, undoing a few clasps in the armor at the shoulders. It was as easy to remove the rest as Sif had promised; it was a simple matter of working down, undoing clasping and setting armor pieces aside. Finally, Sif pulled off her own boots and the armored coverings to her skirt and leggings.

"Thank you, my lady," she said, setting all her armor aside. She was left in a simple crimson camisole and sleek black leggings. "Will there be room for us here?"

"We will be fine on the floor," Fandral promised as Darcy undid the last of his armor. "These are more favorable conditions than we had even dared anticipate; that aside, a man would never let a lady sleep on the floor."

"I am no lady!" Sif protested, knowing it was petty but still remembering the first few taunts and jeers that had been leveled her way. "I can—"

"Sif, it's fine. There's room in one bed for three; they're pretty big beds, and Darcy and I are pretty tiny. You're tall but you'll fit, I think." Jane mused. "Erik needs the other bed, though, he'll complain about his back all through tomorrow otherwise."

"Just wait until you're _my_ age, young lady, you'll do the same thing," he teased her, ruffling her hair. "Regardless of who sleeps where, we would all do well to fall asleep shortly; if we do contact Phil, we'll probably have to move or seek something out, and I'd rather not drive through the night."

"Agreed. Goodnight then, fair friends, and may we wake to a better tomorrow!" Volstagg said, the warriors setting up camp on the floor. Selvig nodded, simply kicking off his shoes and turning off the lights before climbing into bed, eager to rest.

Jane followed suit, climbing into the middle of the bed; Darcy climbed in right after, snuggling close and hugging her tight. 

For a moment, Sif simply stood at the edge of the bed, watching the two of them.

Then she sighed, threw up her hands, and climbed into bed next to Jane, sleeping with her back against the other woman's, uncomfortably aware of her soft warmth.

The entire night was spent that way; she could see the stars from where she was, softly twinkling spatters of light and beauty, constellations she had never seen. She watched them as she felt the other two women in bed beside her, shifting in their sleep every so often, murmuring under their breaths in half-forgotten dreams. They were warm, uncomfortably so, the sort of warmth that crept into her bones and lingered, like the last few days of summer.

She had not spent the night in bed with a woman since she was a little girl, sharing furs with her cousins and mother and aunts for warmth and companionship. That had been fun; nights spent playing and talking and listening to her mother's soft voice. This was...

Well, she didn't know _what_ this was. 

She was a man, she reminded herself; in spirit and strength she was a man, a warrior born—not even quite a Valkyrie. They had all seen that; though her strength was sure and her fighting skills true, she had never quite fit into the Valkyrie clan. It was men she belonged among, living the life of a warrior. Thor had seen it, and convinced everyone else to see it as well. She had loved him for that, but not...not like the others assumed.

Sif sought the company of men and lived like one; she fought with them and drank with them and cursed with them, and when they had been in taverns and the mens' eyes had wandered, she had found hers wandering as well. But where they could touch, she...well, it was for the best if she did not.

The others assumed; they jested and teased, but nothing cruel, simple fact; they saw her as she saw herself, a man trueborn, and that meant, for them, not flirting with tavern wenches might in fact be a crime. They almost seemed to anticipate the day where she pulled a fair maid into her lap, stroking her bodice and making sweet offers in sultry tones.

But while Sif knew her men thought of her as a man in kind, other women might not. And the last thing she needed was a woman recoiling in disgust from her touch. There were others that thought her unnatural, a queer spirit taking the guise of a woman—or worse, a demon, enchanted by some wicked sorceror trying to turn Asgard's men on one another. There was only so much she could take, and while she could endure plenty on the battlefield, her heart was fragile, sore and tender with a lack of love. 

Sif sighed and pressed her face into the pillow. Enough of it, all of it; they were together, happily enough by the look of it, and she would not, could not. 

She was extraordinarily tired.

Her mind, thankfully, gave in to her desires and weary body, calming her stresses and fears long enough to rest. The warmth of Jane Foster, a brave young woman who had been strong enough to catch Thor's eye, (as she had, once upon a time, but Sif would not draw those parallels), did the rest, lulling her to a warm, bone-deep sleep.  
  
She did not remember her dream. Considering her current confusion regarding her sexuality, that was perhaps a kindness on her subconscious' part.

...

Jane was the first one to awake in the morning, rolling over and yawning right into Sif's chest. 

She choked, jerking her head away as the warrior stirred, cracking open a single bleary eye and raising an eyebrow. Jane smiled nervously.

"Uh, hey, sorry. Morning. Forgot...you were there. Not used to someone on that side of the bed," she apologized. "You up for breakfast?"

Sif laughed, low and deep and sending fluttery feelings through Jane's stomach—embarrassment, surely. 

"If we can wake up and make it before Volstagg wakes," she said. "Elsewise we might be out of a breakfast."

She sat up and stretched, her bones cracking and shifting as she made to get out of bed. Darcy opened a single eye, grumbling and yawning. 

"Pancakes," she said. "Hey, Xena, make me pancakes."

"Xena? I know of no Xena. Is it a Midgardian title for warrior?" Sif asked, tilting her head. Darcy laughed.

"Yeah yeah, sure it is! Can you cook or what?" She asked, sitting up in bed, her brown hair tousled and fluffy around her shoulders. Jane shoved her shoulder gently.

"You behave, don't torment her. I'll cook, Sif, it's all right." She paused, curious. "Hey, uh...can you cook?"

"If I must, but I don't find the act pleasurable, I'll grant," Sif admitted as she opened the window in the hotel room. "It smacks of wifehood, a ladylike behavior, and to keep myself respectable in the eyes of Asgard's warriors, it's best if I do not indulge in such past-times."

"See, that's kind of what seems to suck ass about your planet, no offense," Darcy said. "Here, Jane can do astrophysics junk _and_ wear that nice tight skirt that shows off her butt and no one bitches about it. Seems like you guys don't really get to be flexible."

"It is a good life, the one I have chosen; the only one my blood would allow," Sif said, her head high with pride. "But I confess...I envy you a bit. Midgardians do not live as long, but it is as if that simply drives you all to expand and change further; truth be told, we have not changed much since we last came to your realm thousands of years ago. Yet in that short time, as far as we are concerned, you have grown magnificently."

"Less time to do things means you want to do more of them," Jane replied as she started up the stovetop. "It's just a different way of life, I guess. But Darcy's right. I imagine it's quite taxing on you—though it's no picnic for a woman down here trying to make her way in a profession for 'men,' I'll tell you that." 

"I am a man where it matters," Sif explained. "I believe in that respect, it is easier; the warriors of Asgard think me a man, same as they. It is not a choice most women would take; they value their femininity, and to forsake it would be akin to death. But I had to; I could not live with myself as a woman."

"So...where it _matters._.." Darcy trailed off with a grin as Jane threw a sock at her and Sif looked befuddled.

"Yes, in the heart," she said. "Where else would it matter?"

"Ignore her, she's being a brat before she's had her coffee," Jane said. "Regardless, Sif, I don't think...well..." She sighed. "If you're comfortable with your choice that's one thing, but it shouldn't be the only choice if you want to do something other than stay at home, get married, and have kids."

"I suppose," Sif agreed, "there are always the Valkyries, but that is not for every woman."

"Right! Like...I dunno, I'm not sure how Asgard works...but you shouldn't have to be a man or a warrior to be respected, you know?" Jane shrugged. "Sorry, this is probably a bit heavy for early-morning discussion..."

"No, it is quite all right; better than the prattle I hear from my warriors," Sif replied. "I have always found it in me to respect a smart maid, my lady."

She liked the pink flush that rose to both their cheeks. There was no fear of rejection here, not on the basis of what lay between her legs; the larger problem was the relationship already in place. 

Sif hummed, considering, as she watched Jane cook breakfast—some odd kind of meal-cake and eggs—and watching Darcy dress out of the corner of her eye. She knew of men who occasionally took two women to bed; if any of those arrangements had remained permanent, she could not say, but what she did know was such reward and delight only came after a major victory.

Well, then, she decided with a smile, let them win this war against the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D.; surely no victory could be greater...or prize the sweeter.

"Good to see you're a morning person," Jane remarked as she handed Sif a cup of coffee. "All smiles now, aren't we?"

Sif took a sip of the bitter mead; it was strange, but she liked it, letting it burn her tongue and slide down her throat as she grinned.

"Yes," she agreed, "you could say that."

Jane simply huffed and smiled in return, going back to cooking breakfast. Sif folded her legs on the bed, better to balance herself with; she watched the doctor stir, yawning in bed and stretching out, just as her warriors roused themselves. They grumbled and complained all the while, but got themselves up and going at the smell of breakfast cooking.

Fandral caught her eye; Sif smiled and said nothing. 

"A victory first, brother," she finally relented as he passed, so quiet only he heard. Fandral tsked. 

"You must think this will be a fair fight to claim such prizes," he replied. Sif nodded, her gaze sharpening.

"They killed our king, our shieldbrother," she murmured. "I could not envision it being anything else."

Fandral nodded in agreement as the two of them settled in, awaiting breakfast.

The wait was not much longer; Jane set down plates as Selvig took out his phone and tossed it to her.

"We'll try contacting Phil after breakfast," he said. "This phone is a bit ancient, I'll admit; I have no qualms leaving it behind, just in case S.H.I.E.L.D. picks up on the signal, but yours are a bit more useful than a ten year old Nokia."

"Fair enough," Jane agreed, taking a sip of her coffee. "We'll see what Phil's up to right after breakfast."

They all ate, though despite the jokes and general cheer, there was a feeling of anticipation and dread; a curious mix, though considering what they were going to deal with in such a short while, perhaps understandable.

Eventually, the plates were cleared and stacked, and all eyes were on Jane. No one had really decided aloud she would be the one to talk to Coulson, but it had been a sort of unconscious consensus; she didn't seem to mind, but there was a hint of apprehension to her frown as she sat on the bed and dialed Phil's cell number.

It rang three times before she heard the soft click of someone picking up. She sighed in relief.

"Hello, agent? It's me, Jane Foster. I think you and I need to talk," she said.


	9. A Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made. Also, a shopping montage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, minor note; I honestly don't like DUM-E/U as names, I prefer Dummy and You with regards to typing it out and how it looks. So it's going to be Dummy and You for the fic, though it's just a minor aesthetic nitpick I thought y'all should know.  
> Not much else to note. :) Enjoy the chapter!

Phil awoke that morning with a quiet sigh, kissing Pepper's forehead and stretching out in bed.

"Pep, up," he said. "We have work to do."

"Fuck them, I don't want to go," Pepper grumbled in protest. "Let's take the day off."

"Pepper, in the situation we're in right now, that might get us shot," Coulson said. "They already suspect we took the bodies, and we started off on thin ice as it was! Come on, please. For me?"

Pepper sighed and sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. Coulson stroked her hair in understanding.

"Yeah, fine," she grumbled. "Only for you, Phil."

Coulson smiled as she got up, going into the bathroom to shower. He stood and stretched; he would make breakfast for them both and eat his own before a quick shower himself. 

He laid out his clothes and went downstairs to cook, flipping eggs and toasting a bagel for both of them. Phil covered a yawn with his hand, watching out of bleary eyes as the sun fell onto the kitchen floor, cheerily dappling the cool black-and-white tiles. 

His mind wandered as he cooked; he could almost hear the others stirring, Tony grumbling about being awake, Steve urging him gently downstairs, his lovers bickering over some petty joke, simply enjoying trading jabs, Thor's booming voice demanding breakfast, and the soft shuffle of Bruce's slippers on the floor as he puttered downstairs to brew tea. It was peaceful and sweet, but it did not exist, could not exist. It was all in his head, and that made it hurt so much worse.

Phil grit his teeth and shook his head; with a firm hand, he finished the eggs and put cream cheese on his bagel. He ate quickly, not really wanting to taste it; he feared it would taste too much like regret, or, perhaps worse, like the breakfasts he had shared with his team, his people...

Phil sighed, slugging back a cup of coffee just as Pepper came downstairs, already dressed, her hair wet and pulled back into a neat bun.

"Gotta shower," Phil said, "breakfast is on the table."

She knew something was wrong but not quite what; regardless, she took his hand for a second as he hurried to leave. Phil relaxed in her grip, just for a moment, before going back upstairs to shower.

It was quick and efficient; there was no room in here for him to kiss and cuddle his lovers, washing them clean and gently sliding soap across their skin. There was no room for intimacy here, nor any point. 

Coulson turned the shower off as fast as he could, going to get dressed even quicker. He was straightening his tie in two minutes flat, leaving the bedroom and heading downstairs. He didn't think of the times where he had been slow in dressing, lovers making him appreciate why it was worth his while to wait. He shouldered his briefcase and soldiered on.

Pepper met him downstairs, and the two both nodded at each other, ready to go. Before they could, however, Phil's phone rang.

He checked the caller ID and his eyebrow began to climb. He figured he had to answer, however—in fact, he had a horrible feeling what this call might end up being about, and while it wasn't a threat...it was something that needed to be done.

He picked up the phone, Jane Foster on the other end of the line.

_"Hello, agent? It's me, Jane Foster. I think you and I need to talk."_

Coulson sighed and nodded in agreement.

"I assumed as much," he replied, hoping only that Tony's gadgets had worked and his phone couldn't be bugged. "Talk to me, Ms. Foster."

 _"I know Thor's...y'know. And I know about the vigil. But there's a few things you need to know, too."_

Phil nodded, hesitant, but almost eager. Perhaps it might really be good news, though he wouldn't dare hope...

"Tell me everything," he said, getting out of range from the house's bugs. "Are you safe?"

_"Y_ _es; we're back in Puente Antiguo for the time being. I saw some readings similar to_ _Thor'_ _s_ _when he arrived, and I went to investigate. You know the_ _Warriors_ _Th_ _ree_ _?_ _Sif,_ _too—those friends of Thor's. They all showed up and told me the news. They said they were looking for allies..."_

"Well, they've found them," Phil replied. "Especially if they can bring Thor back like they say."

 _"Agreed,"_ Jane said with a sigh. _"We thought you might be okay...well, for a measure of okay. We were just wondering what to do..."_

"Stay close to where you are until the end of the week; I suggest changing hotels, and take different names this time. And for god's sake, if they're still in their Asgardian garb, get them new clothes—if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes hunting, it's the first thing that they'll look for. I do need you in Puente Antiguo though; when Thor comes back, it will be through that portal, we can assume." Phil said. Pepper gave him a querying look; he mouthed, _"I'll explain later."_

 _"All right, fair enough; we assumed as much. We'll wait for Thor. Then what?_ "

"Then we see what can be done about the others. If Loki's magic or Odin's magic can fix them, good. If not, we might find other solutions. We have to. But getting Thor back will be a great asset for us, I'm sure." Phil sighed. "Ms. Foster, this is war. You don't have to get involved."

 _"Thor would've thought I was worthy. He thought the same of you. I'm sure there's no one else he'd think better suited to this fight, Agent Coulson, and you know it. I'm not giving up,"_ Jane said. Phil nodded.

"Good answer. It's a reckless answer, a foolhardy answer, but a good answer. If you need to contact us again, find another phone—a disposable is best. If by some miracle we can steal JARVIS away from S.H.I.E.L.D., we'll use his communications, too," Phil told her. "Ms. Foster; stay alive, stay safe, and keep your head down. When Thor comes back, you'll need to get a handle on him. Tell him that I know he wants war, but we have to get all our soldiers back first. Understood?"

 _"I don't know if it'll convince him, but all right. I'll do what I can, Phil."_

Phil sighed, relieved.

"Good, good. I hate waiting, but it seems like our only option; better to wait well and win the war then lose our patience and lose everything," he mused. "I have one more question, though; do you have any intel on Loki?"

 _"According to the warriors, he's holding vigil for Thor. He'll be back when Thor is, I assume,"_ Jane replied _. "Why?"_

As Phil looked up, he saw a raven sitting on the hood of his car, a scroll in its mouth. He laughed quietly, shaking his head.

"No reason, Ms. Foster. Keep everyone safe. Contact me when you've moved and gotten a new phone," he told her. "Until then."

 _"Good luck, Phil,_ " she told him, before a click in his ear said that she had hung up. Phil stowed his phone away, looking at the raven.

"Huginn?" He asked. The raven cawed. Phil sighed in relief. "Lucky guess," he said. "Could I have that message?"

The raven hopped over, alighting on his shoulder and dropping the scroll in his hand. Phil broke the wax seal and read it.

 _"Phil, Son of Coul; the vigil has begun. All will be well. Await my son's arrival; he will find you as soon as he is able. Amass your forces where you can. If Asgard goes to war, we will ally ourselves with you in a heartbeat; for now, contact the warriors I have sent to Midgard. They will find you, and you may work out plans from there. Be careful; if the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. are great as they say, you are in dange_ r."

"And this is from the Allfather?" Phil asked. Huginn cawed in what Phil figured had to be agreement. 

"We did contact Jane and the warriors; Huginn, tell him we've started to find allies. I figure it's worth a mention." Pepper said. The raven bobbed his head in agreement, flapping his wings once before he was gone, as if he had never been. 

"So what now?" Pepper asked after a beat of silence. Phil sighed, sinking deep into thought.

"Truthfully, I think our next move is to find some way to re-acquire JARVIS. I know the Stark manor is going to be well-guarded, but...there's got to be a way in." Phil mused.

Pepper sunk deep into thought.

"There are a few failsafes Tony put into his programs, should they fall into the wrong hands," she said. "My phone is equipped with a few of them; if we could activate them, I might be able to remotely re-activate JARVIS and re-install him on my phone. If that goes well, I can link him up to the house and the car, and we'll have him back."

"What about the 'bots?" Phil asked. As much as Tony had whined and complained about Dummy, Butterfingers, and You, he had actually shed a few tears at leaving them behind when they ran; Phil owed it to him to attempt to get them back, at least.

"If JARVIS syncs up, I can have him connect to the 'bots programming and get them out of the house as subtly as possible. Mind you, Dummy isn't really _subtle,_ but we'll do it when JARVIS says there's not a lot of agents around." Pepper said. Phil nodded.

"Okay; that'll be our next priority, then," he agreed. "Now come on; if we don't hurry, we'll be late, and that's the last thing either of us need."

They both got into the car in a hurry, speeding off for base, the last place on Earth they wanted to be.

...

"So, good news?" Erik said as Jane hung up the phone. She nodded, beaming. 

"Yes; he told us he's going to help in any way he can once Thor gets back, basically. He wants us to stay here and wait for him, but he advised us to switch hotels. We'll register under another name, but first..." She sighed. "The boys and Sif need new clothes. We can't call attention to ourselves, and armor is a big attention-grabber."

"My lady, with all due respect, we must be prepared for any battle that comes our way!" Fandral protested. Darcy huffed.

"Well, until Thor comes back, you know what our biggest battle is? Blending in. We've gotta lay low and be careful; these are big scary secret agents running around, and they might really wanna hurt us, maybe even kill us. We gotta lay low, at least until the big guy comes back. No one can make _him_ lay low." Darcy said.

"Wise words, fair maid," Hogun agreed. "I do not like this, but it appears to be the only choice we have. To remain powerful is to remain outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s notice, and that is a vital component of our strategy."

"Agreed," Sif replied. "If we must blend in, we will. But our weapons should be kept nearby."

"Of course. Probably best to leave them in the van; I don't really want to try to smuggle swords past some hotel clerk." Jane said, standing up and stretching, packing the last few things she had with her and turning to the others.

"So," she finally said, "shopping montage?"


	10. Flirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans with potential threesomes and the like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops polyamory is in almost every fic I write, lol. Not the next few I have coming up, promise. I just miss femslash. It's so rare.  
> Also that is totally my headcanon for why Darcy was the only one to sign up, lol.

In the end, only Sif, Darcy, and Jane went in; Sif's camisole and leggings were passable as normal clothing, and no one had wanted to try guessing on her bra size.

"It is hard picking out clothes for men," Sif said. "That is the one regard where I must fall back on the confines on my gender; I happen to enjoy a skirt on occasion, though not where the men might see."

"Wear skirts whenever you want, dude," Darcy told her. "I mean, y'know, your bros out there clearly don't care."

"No they do not," Sif admitted, "but they are a rare breed of friend indeed. The men I must lead into battle, though...they must know they can trust me to lead as a man, and that means skirts are for meetings with the queen and an occasional feast."

"Fair enough," Jane agreed. "We don't need much; we're on a budget, anyway. I just want them to have an outfit to wear until Thor comes back."

"Well, thank god for cheap tee-shirts and jeans at Wal-Mart, I guess," Darcy remarked with a sigh. "Man, it's definitely a step down, though."

"A step down that will keep them safe," Sif said. "We have fought through worse than poorly-fitting clothing."

"Aw, yeah. Hey, can you tell me about your crazy badass adventures sometime? That'd be super cool." Darcy said. Sif smiled.

"If it would please you that much. I am no _skald_ , but I shall suffice," she said. "If you ask the men for any of the stories they will tell you just enough of the truth to remember all the lies they've added in."

"I _knew_ Fandral had never banged a thousand chicks," Darcy said solemnly as they started amassing their clothes and looking everything over. "I told him his dick would fall off, even if he was a god, and he just laughed and changed the subject."

Sif laughed herself; a warm, booming thing that made Darcy grin.

"They tend to do that," she said. "Never trust anything a man tells you about the girls he has bedded."

"So would you be honest, or is that something like the whole skirts-on-occasion thing?" Darcy asked. Jane's face flushed red as she grabbed the clothes and looked away.

"Darcy, quit it!" She admonished her. "Don't ask things like that, for god's sake—"

"Truthfully, I've never bedded a man, for he'd make a mockery of me if he did," Sif said, "and I've yet to find the courage to bed a woman. I consider myself a man, but they do not."

"Well, you can be a lesbian down here, so it's cool. A chick who likes chicks, I mean." Darcy said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. Sif sighed.

"I suppose, but that sort of thing...it isn't...reviled on Asgard, just...unheard of," she said. "We have simply never considered it."

"Well, you could consider it. Or something. Y'know, if you don't want to die alone with eighty cats," Darcy teased. Jane glared at her; Sif settled for looking befuddled.

"I will die in battle, with my men to avenge me," she said. "There are no cats in this picture. Frigga keeps the beasts, though I don't know why; they're capricious little monsters."

"Who will pee on all your expensive equipment," Jane added as they made their way to the women's section. Darcy groaned.

"Aw come on, we'll get the snake if you'll stop talking about that, I just want a pet!" She protested. Jane laughed, ruffling her hair. Sif hung back, hesitant, until Jane turned to her with a smile.

"Hey, uh—you want to go run and get your stuff, Sif? We didn't think the two of us buying bras or anything would be fair to you." She said. 

"Yeah, I'd buy you those stupid thongs and watch you fight with them for the rest of the day. Man, you are definitely not gonna like thongs." Darcy said. Jane sighed.

 _"Why_ are we at the point in our lives where we're discussing buying lacy underwear for another woman?" She muttered. Sif looked completely nonplussed and slightly concerned for Darcy's mental health.

"I...do not understand? Is there another type of undergarment I am not aware of?" She asked. Jane sighed and pushed her towards the lingerie section, uncomfortably aware of her soft, supple skin and the strong, proud muscle beneath her grip. 

"Just go find what you need and meet us back up front," she said. "And don't touch anything that has lace on it."

"I wasn't planning on it, but all right," Sif agreed. "Are you going to explain thongs to me?"

"When you're older," Jane said, her face red. Sif chuckled.

"I am over a thousand years old, fair lady, but if you wish," she said, heading back into the lingerie. Darcy whistled, watching her leave.

"We should buy her a thong for Christmas," she said.

"Please stop." Jane said, hiding her face in the clothes for a second, trying not to feel uncomfortably warm.

...

Thankfully, they paid and left soon after, and Jane could ignore the silky black briefs Sif had insisted on buying along with her bra, despite the fact that she was holding the bag with them in it. She ignored it, curling up in the passenger seat of the car; Erik had taken the truck with the warriors three, and she, Darcy, and Sif had taken Erik's van.

Jane drove and Darcy remained in the back with Sif, chattering on; Jane smiled, content, and listened to her lover natter on. She loved the sound of Darcy's voice. Sif seemed confused by their topic—some hipster band or another—but she looked like she was enjoying listening, all the same.

The drive was peaceful and, frankly, Jane could've sat there forever, just spending time with both of them, but as it happened, Erik was pulling into a hotel now, and they followed suit. Jane got out, tossing Erik the bag of men's clothes.

"Have them change in the van before we go in, okay?" She said. "I'll go with Darcy to check us in."

"All right, then; I've got a few things I want to bring, too. Just some notes to look over," Selvig said. Jane didn't know what he would need at a time like this, but she wouldn't question much. She could only nod in agreement, beckoning to Darcy as the two of them made to get out.

"Hey, uh...you're okay with changing in front of the guys, right?" She asked. Sif nodded, laughing a little as she stretched out.

"Yes, of course; they are my shieldbrothers. It is of no consequence. Off with you, little ones; get us a room at this inn, won't you?" She said. Jane nodded, her face tinged pink.

"R-right," she said, heading off with Darcy to do just that. Sif smiled and began to strip, thinking of the blush on her face all the while.

The warriors plus Selvig joined them soon after, and Jane bit back a sigh of relief at seeing they were all dressed normally. The clerk had to double-take at the size of Volstagg's beard, but that couldn't be helped. A beard wouldn't get them caught, hopefully. And it was late enough in the year Jane could just make an excuse that he was a mall Santa or something like that.

"You'll be wanting two rooms, madam?" The clerk asked. Jane nodded, sliding her credit card over the counter.

"Yes, please; the biggest you have, if possible," she said. The woman nodded, sliding her credit card through as Jane signed them all in, coming up with fake names on the fly; she could only hope they would pass muster if someone did come sniffing around. She had started carrying a gun after the fiasco down in Puente Antiguo, but god knew what use that would be against a trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or ten. 

The rooms went through and thankfully, the clerk didn't ask why they were staying for a week in the middle of nowhere. She just handed them their cards and they were off, ready to settle in.

The walk was long; the last thing Jane wanted was trying to herd the warriors and Sif into an elevator, and they were of course set at the top of the building. 

"My _feet_ hurt," Darcy finally whined after the fourth floor. Sif's eyes glittered with something Jane couldn't read that sent a shiver down her spine all the same.

"I will carry you, my lady," she said, her voice a low purr. Before Darcy could protest, Sif had hefted her over her shoulder, taking care not to hurt her or jostle her as she balanced her. Darcy squawked an admittedly ungraceful protest before humming, content.

"Man, you've got broad shoulders. You could put like, ten of me on you." Darcy said, settling in. "I'm not heavy right? Even if I am, you have to say no."

Sif chuckled as they traipsed their way up the rest of the stairs. 

"I have carried Volstagg off a battlefield at one point, small lady," she said. "You are like a feather from a freshly-hatched chick after that."

Volstagg harrumphed; Sif laughed and tugged his beard playfully as she and the Warriors Three got into a spirited argument about whether or not Volstagg had really needed to be carried. Erik and Jane hung back, hesitant; Erik put a hand on Jane's shoulder.

"Are you worried?" He said, his voice quiet with concern. Jane snorted.

 _Worried? No, not about Darcy cheating, Erik. I'm a lot more worried_ I _might. And Darcy deserves so much better than me. Also, she's kind of an immortal goddess, and I'm some astrophysicist mortal weirdo with no social skills who worries she can barely hold onto the girlfriend she's got. So no, Erik. I'm not worried about Darcy. I'm worried about_ myself.

"I'm fine, Erik; Darcy loves me and I love her. I'm not worried at all," she promised. "Honestly I'm only a bit jealous I don't have anyone to carry me." She said, keeping her voice light. Sif overheard and smiled, amused.

"I could fit you on my shoulders easily as well, my lady," she said. Jane's eyes widened with shock and she averted her gaze.

"Uhm, I...th-thanks, I just...figure maybe...no...attention to ourselves. And stuff. Y'know." Jane mumbled. "You're really strong."

Sif's lips quirked up in a small smile, crinkling around her eyes and making them shine. 

"I should hope so, my lady," she agreed. "Thank you, though. A maiden's compliments strengthen a warrior tenfold, or so I have been told."

Jane mumbled something under her breath and barked out a shy giggle, the kind she hadn't used since middle school, laughing awkwardly at some cute girl's joke.

_Help me._

Sif seemed to understand, however; she merely smiled, humming contentedly to herself the rest of the way upstairs, Darcy resting on her shoulder, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"So...who gets what room?" Darcy finally ventured as they all stood at the top of the stairs to the last set of rooms. Jane shrugged.

"Erik, if you don't mind rooming with the warriors, I figure a gender split is pretty simple. Fair enough?" She suggested. Erik nodded.

"Places like this usually have a pull-out couch. All I ask is room to work." He said. Jane tilted her head.

"Work on what?" She asked. Erik sighed.

"I don't want to give anyone undue hope, and truth be told, parsing out a solution might take me this entire week. That said, once I can tell you with some certainty the idea will pan out, I'll let you know about it immediately," he promised. Jane nodded; she trusted Erik well enough, and the look in his eyes gave her hope this would end well.

"All right then. Boys, you're welcome in our room for strip poker!" Darcy said.

"No." Jane replied, pushing her inside their room.

"Okay, regular poker," Darcy acquiesced. Jane shook her head and smiled, turning the lights on and putting her bag down as she tossed Selvig the other room key and watched as Erik shephered the other men in, cajoling them with promises of showers and, in Volstagg's case, room service.

"After dinner," she said. "I'm going to cook, if that's all right; Darcy, Sif, want to turn on the television?"

"Hell yeah!" Darcy said, plunking down on the bed. "Hey, Sif, c'mere, I'm gonna introduce you to the wonder known as hotel pay-per-view porn."

"No you are not!" Jane snapped. Darcy groaned.

"Come on, she's a lesbian who's never done it, we gotta find her something!" Darcy protested. "Unless you wanna show her? I'm down with exhibitionism for the good of the fellowship."

Jane's face was red, and she buried it into her arms as soon as she could, groaning. Darcy grinned, her face flushed, but unlike Jane's full-face burn of embarrassment and mortification, Darcy's was the slow, easy pink bloom of desire. 

"Come on, it's not too hard. Just show her where to put stuff, y'know. What do you think, tough guy? Those big hands and nice fingers and nothing to do with 'em." Darcy remarked, picking Sif's hand up and holding it. "Jeez, I think it could fit over the whole of my tit."

Sif's face had started to flush. Jane unceremoniously whimpered.

"My fair maids, your offer is...appreciated, but...you are in a committed, loving relationship. I wouldn't dare intrude." Sif murmured. Darcy sighed.

"Aw, fine. I love Jane a lot and she knows that!" She looked up at her. "Babe, you okay?"

"We're not having sex with a god!" Jane snapped. Darcy cackled.

"See? _We!_ We could totally have a threesome!" She said. 

"Don't you pounce all over my Freudian slips, I didn't—"

"Sif, do you even know what a threesome is?" Darcy asked, her eyes glittering with triumph.

"Okay, I'm going to go room with the men. Even counting Fandral, I'm much less likely to have to listen to this nonsense." Jane said, pushing away from the counter and going to leave. Before she could, however, Sif sighed.

"There is...a tradition...among my people," she began, hesitant, "to take spoils of war after a great fight. They could be trinkets, gems and gold...or they could be people. Servants on occasion. Concubines are...more common."

"So what? If we go beat up the bad guys we can all do it?" Darcy asked, eager. Sif shrugged, clearly uncomfortable.

"I do not...wish for you to think you are spoils of war. And I am...unsure. I do not think this is how potential mates are courted...and you have your own relationship to consider." Sif sighed. "This is not something I think we need discuss right now. You are good friends and comrades. I do not wish to intrude upon your own love...nor perhaps forsake friends."

Jane nodded, biting her lip as she looked down at her hands, deep in thought for a second.

"I...think I need to go on a walk," she said. "Darcy, join me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure!" Darcy agreed, bounding up and following her out of the room. 

Jane had scarely shut the door before she slammed Darcy against the wall and devoured her mouth, biting and growling and slipping her tongue into her mouth when Darcy cried out in shock. 

For a few minutes, she held her pinned there, digging her fingers into her skin as if to hold Darcy closer. Wildly, within her there was an animal urge to rip her clothes from her body just barely enough to take her right in the hallway, penetrate her and claim her, make her go back into their room with disheveled hair, messy clothes, and the smell of claiming, of someone else's orgasm on her.

She couldn't, despite the insistent growling desire to do just that. It wouldn't be fair to blame Darcy for wanting Sif when she wanted Sif. And besides, she wasn't very good at being physical. Talking, though...talking she could do.

"So," she said, "make up your mind. Is it really spending more time with me that you want, or just breaking up right here and now?"

Darcy looked stunned, shaking her head slowly.

 _"What?_ Are you fucking stupid?" She said. "Fuck, I'm actually kind of pissed. You think I want to _break up?_ No, _fuck_ you! I _love you,_ I've loved you since my freshman year of college, I sniped half the fucking science department with a paintball gun to be the only one signing up for your little team—"

"Wait, that was _you_?" Jane said, shocked. Darcy rolled her eyes.

" _Yes,_ stupid! Why did you think they were all complaining about their dry cleaning?" Her eyes softened and she sighed, cupping Jane's cheek.

"Babe, I love you. You were one of the first people that was ever kind to me. You gave me a home, a family. You love me, and I love you. No, I don't ever want to give that up, not even for a really hot god. I waited so long to have that with _you_ , Jane," Darcy sighed. "Sorry. I think...I think I took that too far. I just thought hey, maybe...she's kinda cute, we could..."

Jane sighed and laid her head on Darcy's shoulder, inhaling sharply.

"I need to be a better girlfriend to _you_ , first, before I even think of _maybe_ having another. Darcy, I just..." She fumbled for her words and shook her head.

"I love you too. But if I'm getting scared that you'll leave, that means I've done something wrong here. I want...I want to do better. Because you deserve better." Jane whispered. "Can...can we just fix ourselves first?"

"We're not broken!" Darcy protested. Jane shook her head.

"No, we're not. But there are a few cracks, and if I neglect them...we will break, Darce," she murmured. "How about we just...take this week to sort ourselves out? We've got to stay in the area, but there's plenty of open space to just sit together and talk."

Darcy grinned, hugging tight.

"Hey, sounds like a great plan to me!" She promised. "If we add "make out" to that fun list, too, that'd be super great."

"If you're good," Jane teased, leaning in to give her another kiss. Darcy yielded, smiling into it and holding her close.

The two of them curled up together in the hall for awhile, simply taking in the feel of each other. Darcy gave Jane a soft, gentle kiss, and eventually, after giving her a warm, loving kiss in return, the two decided at once to pull one another up and head back into their room. 

Sif was cooking, frowning at the bubbling soup before her but thankfully, not starting any fires.

"There are no men around," she said when she noticed them come back in, "and I do not think you two are like to tell tales of my womanhood."

"Oh, give us a bit of fun and we might," Darcy teased. Jane rolled her eyes.

Then, before she could stop herself, she reached up on tiptoe and pecked Sif's cheek, light and gentle. Darcy hooted, delighted; Sif turned slightly pink at the touch.

"Ignore her," she said. "That's a thank-you for cooking, by the way."

"You are...most welcome, my lady Jane," Sif said graciously. "I...may have to cook more often."

"Oh, we're totally keeping her," Darcy said, flopping down on the bed and turning on the television. Jane huffed, but she was smiling as she went to lay down on the bed as well.


	11. Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Pepper get down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more fluff and feels in this chapter, and the return of someone special! Hope you enjoy~

It took Phil and Pepper another three days of careful monitoring to observe the goings-on in the Stark mansion as best as they could. They took down notes of a concrete schedule, carefully taking everything and putting it together so Pepper could have JARVIS move the robots as fast as was possible.

"Isn't this kind of a risk?" Pepper posed on the fourth day. "They'll know it's us. Who else would want the robots? And the last thing we need is Fury on our tail."

"If you can get JARVIS to fake it," Phil began hesitantly, "what I'd like to do is have a faux hacker message sent through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers saying they've hijacked some of Tony's technology—starting with his robots."

"That seems plausible," Pepper agreed, "but what if Fury can trace it?"

"Is JARVIS capable of making a few things? I've spent time in S.H.I.E.L.D.; I know how to fake a Social Security ID, birth records, et cetera. If you give me some time with that tonight, I can put it together and bust them out tomorrow when the agents watching the house swap places." Phil offered.

"He can," Pepper said. "Then I suppose that should work." A smile crept across her lips. "Boy, it was a bad idea for S.H.I.E.L.D. to mess with a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, huh?"

"Wasn't it _just?"_ Phil said softly, a thin, twisted smile on his face. Pepper cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead, sensing his turmoil.

"Hey, look," she said. "I wasn't born for this like you. I only accepted their offer of agenthood to keep myself near my team. They were my family too. But that never made me an agent, did it?" She sighed. "You though, Phil...you're still so normal, but you're an agent to the bone, the best agent they'll ever have—not that they _deserve_ it, granted—and that...I don't know. I guess it means you're special. It means they've got one hell of an enemy on their hands, regardless—an enemy they bred and trained."

"They do," Phil agreed, "but you're completely alien to them, Pepper. And that might prove just as useful."

She beamed, pleased, and kissed his cheek as the two of them climbed into his car, heading off to base.

...

Phil hated being at work these days.

The trick was to pretend like nothing was wrong; to go about his business and continue scheduling meetings and calling for briefings and writing up reports and signing off on other agents' files and handling the mess that was the training room schedule, but thinking only of the names that had once been a constant on his list...well, it muddled things up for him quite a bit.

Everyone knew, as well. Most of them pitied him; not that he blamed them, since truth be told, he pitied himself. But their eyes were so hard to meet, full of all that understanding and pity.

He wanted to lash out, demand of them why they dared think they could understand, because none of them could, not really; not a single agent could understand what it was like to have run, to have been free, and not even get to die still mid-flight, to at least plummet only when you were dead and gone, unable to realize you were falling. None of them could know what it was like to return to your cage, your wings broken, your nest and flock in tatters.

But he couldn't. Because he was Phil Coulson; the placid, unassuming, and disarmingly fatherly agent that kept an eye out on the recruits even as he gave them a tongue-lashing for stupid mistakes and missed briefings. He wasn't the man meant to lose his mind. That was not the role S.H.I.E.L.D. had conferred on him, like a crown of thorns; it was the role they had forced him to play while wearing the mask of another.

Phil was so tired. His entire body seemed to ache, not with pain or sores, but with a lack of contact; the loss of Clint and Natasha's sweet fingers on his skin, rough and calloused and yet so soft and loving, was like a physical wound. He needed a night in bed with his lovers, kissing promises into their skin, speaking only of the things that made them happy, not the nightmares that plagued them when they closed their eyes, or teasing one another and stroking their skin, little tickles until Clint and Natasha both giggled—such a rare and beautiful thing.

The thought of it ringing through his ears made Coulson want to scream.

He couldn't have survived the grievous losses he had endured, in all truth, without Pepper; brave, wonderful Pepper, who helped him with his paperwork and made coffee, straightening up the office and doing whatever she could. S.H.I.E.L.D. had made it awhile back so that she could handle Stark Industries affairs from the S.H.I.E.L.D. offices, and she continued to do so, but moved all her equipment into Phil's office.

Phil was comforted constantly by her presence; it was soothing in ways he couldn't quite explain. She was not his lovers, nor was she free of sorrow herself, but knowing she was still with him, that at least one person who understood, who had been free for the shortest, most glorious of times, was there to stay with him.

Pepper seemed to take comfort from him as well, and for that he was grateful. He knew she suffered, and he wanted to do all he could to help her. She had lost just as much as he had; a lover, her friends, her family. Their grieving was like two piano keys, side by side; each played a different note, but the tune could be played all the same.

The two of them didn't speak of their team when they were at base. That kept the masks on better, made it easier to slip amongst the recruits and handle them, shepherding people to and fro, managing briefings and orchestrating training sessions. But they lingered beside them like ghosts, giving them chills and making it so hard to focus, so hard to breathe, so long as even a fraction of their mind was devoted to the others they had loved here.

It ached. _Everything_ ached. The loss of love, the loss of touch, the loss of friends, of family, of life and partners. The worst ache was the loss of their freedom. They had been heroes, really and truly, for just a short while. No man owned them and yet they continued to do all the good that they could. It was enough. But not for S.H.I.E.L.D., never.

The day ended mercifully, as all endings do; with a whimper. Coulson was at the end of his rope, and happened to find a keepsake in his desk, one he hadn't cleared out when they ran.

It was a simple, silly thing; a little arrowhead. Not even one of the big ones Clint was fond of throwing, of palming when he got nervous, despite not even using real arrowheads more often than not.

It still drove Phil to tears. Pepper found him that way, slumped in his chair and sobbing.

She took the hand that held Clint's arrow and held it against Phil's heart until he stopped, his tears drying up in degrees as he did his best to keep himself as true and sure as one of Clint's arrows, splitting the very sky in an even half.

"We're going to find him," Pepper whispered, so quiet the cameras couldn't pick it up. It was loud enough to soothe the hammering of his heart in his ears.

Phil nodded, getting up and grabbing his briefcase. It was finally time to leave, to let this all end, at least for the day.

Hopefully, if they got JARVIS together, it might be the beginning of the end for all of this, as well. Phil could only dream.

...

Later that night, the two of them sat in a diner; Pepper ordered a coffee, nursing it quietly, and when the waitress came back to take Phil's order, Phil, not quite thinking, blurted out, "Clint needs a cheeseburger, he's just—"

He stopped and caught himself.

"Sorry," he apologized, "forgot my friend hasn't shown up yet. Coffee for myself as well, and a slice of that chocolate cake."

The waitress looked befuddled but sympathetic, scribbling down their orders.

"Don't worry about it, hun, I get like that too sometimes," she promised him. "Y'know, your mind all full up of scribbles and someone elses' ideas, yeah?"

"...Yes, honestly. I suppose," Phil murmured, his eyes grey with the fragments of the past that still cut him to this day, and would right into the future.

The waitress blinked, surprised; for a second she saw that much bone-deep loss and it troubled her, but she swept it away quickly enough, as people are inclined to do when confronted with the problematic. She sauntered off with a hum as Pepper put her hand, warm and soft and lightly freckled, over Phil's and squeezed.

"He always got cheeseburgers," Phil murmured, his voice rough, "I told him they were so bad for him, and he just laughed and told me it wouldn't be a bad heart that killed him. He thought it was so funny, but it scared me so _much_..."

"I know," Pepper replied, her voice tender and understanding. "Phil, it's okay. It hasn't been that long. Only what, a month?"

"Y-yes," Phil agreed, "I've lost them to ops for longer than that..." He shook his head and laughed, bitter and dark as the coffee that went undrunk beside him.

"Maybe this is one big op," he mused, "a great big op they can't let me in on, so I don't know if they're safe. I can't talk them out of this one, get them to leave their nests, drop their cover. How are they going to do it without me?"

"They're strong, Phil," Pepper soothed him. "They're so strong. You made them even stronger. They'll be just..."

She paused, remembering the truth.

"If...if Thor comes back, there's hope for the others," she murmured. "I mean, we could...figure something out, I guess."

"We will," Phil said, his voice soft. "We will, we will. My darlings will live. And so will yours."

Pepper smiled, thin and tight and full of tears.

"Of course they will," she murmured. "Yes, of course..."

Phil stroked her hair for a second, brief but comforting, and so full of love. Pepper allowed herself to lean into his touch and pretend, just for that brief second, that it was Bruce that had cupped the back of her head and stroked her hair.

Phil's coffee came, and they split the slice of cake as Pepper ordered another coffee. She sighed and massaged her temples as she finally took out her phone, seeing the waitress was gone.

"I don't know which failsafe code Tony used for JARVIS, and we've only got three tries," she said. "We'll have to narrow it down."

"How many does he have?" Phil asked. Pepper snorted.

"One for every 'bot he's ever made. So, somewhere in the hundreds of thousands," she said. "We're...y'know."

"Screwed, quite succinctly," Phil said with a sigh. "So, a plan, Ms. Potts?"

"Well, for his lower-level bots, Tony employed number codes, but the higher up in AI level and complexity that he got, the more sentimental he became. JARVIS is second only to the Iron Man suits. I know Dummy, Butterfingers, and You are Rhodey's dog tag numbers..." Pepper frowned, opening up her phone. "But he never told me JARVIS'. He said I'd figure it out if I ever needed to."

"Cryptic bastard," Phil muttered, sipping his coffee. "Tony, you pick the worst times to be poetic."

They would've laughed if there had been any hope he might join them in doing so. As it was, they both just took another sip of their burning-hot coffee, hoping to chase the hurt away with bitterness and pain of a different kind.

Pepper ran through a few options on her phone and frowned, keying in a few commands and sighing.

"It's a verbally-encrypted password, I might not be able to..." She trailed off. "Wait, hold that thought, it says it's recognizing my name." She looked up at Phil. "Let's go outside for a second, just in case."

Phil nodded, getting up and leading her just outside the doors, the night falling soft and velvety around them, like a midnight cape. A few stubborn stars twinkled in the New York skyline as Pepper sunk deep into thought.

"So he meant for you to know this," Phil said. "Pepper, think. You spent over a decade of your life with Tony, and there were times where you two were the only thing the other had. What do you think he would've known you'd know?"

"I don't _know_!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down. Tears were forming in her eyes, making them shine, magnifying all her pain in each drop. "God, _he_ was the genius, I was only—I was the assistant, the secretary, the one that men flirted with to get closer to _him_ , I wasn't anything special, I—"

"That's a lie and you know it," Phil said, his voice gentle but his tone firm. "Tony loved you. Tony thought the _world_ of you, Pepper, and you _know it_. What would he have been so sure you'd know? What would he have believed to be true so much that he encrypted it into his brilliant, complex AI? What would he have thought only you would realize?"

Pepper wiped her eyes, her mouth working open and shut, no sound issuing forth.

"I...I don't..." She shook her head. "I don't know what Tony would want, I just—I just kept it all together, I mean—"

"Yes, Pepper. Yes you did. You kept _everything_ together. You kept Tony together, you kept the team together, you kept everyone functioning. For the longest time, that mattered to Tony more than anything else in the world," Phil told her. "Come on, Pepper. You _know this_."

A conversation came back to her; a beautiful blue gown, something he had just thrown money at on a whim, but it came to her beautifully boxed with a diamond necklace to go with it, a dance...and something she had murmured in his ear. He had laughed and agreed later on, when they joked about it, and then mentioned something to JARVIS.

"...I can't function without Pepper Potts," she murmured into her phone.

A soft beep, and her phone began to whirr.

 _"Neither can I, madam_ ," JARVIS' dry voice intoned, full of as much warmth as an AI could muster. " _It is so good to see you again_."

"Yeah," Pepper said, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "You too, JARV. It's...good to see you again."

Phil wiped her tears away as gently as he could, careful and attentive. Pepper smiled at him, grateful, before saying, "JARVIS, we'll speak to you in a minute. We just have to go handle something quick, all right?"

 _"The bill has been paid, madam, if you two are quite ready to leave,_ " JARVIS replied. Pepper groaned with relief.

"Oh, I forgot how much I loved having you around. All right, Phil, let's move," she said. "I think a walk somewhere quiet would be nice. There's a park ten blocks away."

"I think so, too," Phil agreed. "Let's see to that, then, shall we?"

Pepper grinned and took the arm he proffered. They walked down the sidewalk together, holding onto each other tightly, as well as the hope that JARVIS' return had offered them, a life raft in the storm.

The walk to the park was quick, but thankfully they could discuss freely now, without fear of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s bugs.

 _"I have heard of what has transpired, madam,"_ JARVIS said. _"The agents speak of it. My creator is gone. I...I do not know what I'm meant to do anymore."_

"We're going to try to get him back," Pepper promised. "We already sent Loki to bring Thor back up to Asgard, and we're hoping we can work something out with the others—"

 _"Wait, Loki? Madam, I know we are desperate, but he...well, he is Loki. God of interfering with my systems and making my wiring a most unpleasant mess when he wished to sneak into the manor,"_ JARVIS protested. Pepper nodded.

"Yeah, I know. But...he loves Thor," she said. "It might help."

 _"I couldn't tell, what with all the times he has tried to cause him grievous mortal harm,"_ JARVIS said. " _Or would it be_ im _-mortal harm, considering the fact of Thor's godhood?"_

"Ignore scemantics, JARV," Pepper said, rolling her eyes and trying not to laugh. "In all seriousness, he was pretty eager to help. They crossed a line killing Thor. I don't think Loki ever really wanted that. Honestly, he looked like he didn't know what to do with himself..."

 _"Every shadow comes from some light or another. If the light is extinguished, it becomes simple darkness. Perhaps for all his anger and hatred...Loki truly was afraid of becoming the darkness,"_ JARVIS said. _"At any rate, conjecture about Loki's motives is irrelevant. What did he do with Thor?"_

"As far as we know, he took him back up to Asgard for some kind of vigil. If it's done right, Thor will be just fine. It's supposed to take seven days, so we're just waiting for it to be over; it's the fourth day now, so..." Pepper shrugged. "Who knows? We can't trust his word, I know that, but where Thor is concerned..."

 _"Where Thor is concerned, I feel Loki would do anything. Good or ill,"_ JARVIS finished for her, whirring in thought. _"Regardless, madam, do we have a plan for what to do as we while away our time on this mortal coil?"_

"We want Dummy, Butterfingers, and You back," Pepper said. JARVIS beeped with what might have been surprise.

 _"I see. Is there any reason, madam? Forgive me for saying so...but it seems like quite a lot of risk for only minor gain, when it comes to evading S.H.I.E.L.D.; the boys would not wish to be freed if it resulted in your capture,"_ he said. Pepper sighed.

"We owe it to Tony," she said. "Besides, if he can really be revived...as much as Dummy, Butterfingers, and You might drive him crazy, between him and the four of you, we might have him getting a lab set up underneath S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. That's plenty useful."

 _"True_ ," JARVIS admitted. _"Madam, the place is under tight security, however. What do you suggest we do?"_

"I know the override code for Dummy, Butterfingers, and You; if you can get into their systems and move them out of the house, we know the shift-switching schedule. We can get them out of there. Phil knows how to create a false identity; we'll make up some hacker and give him a backstory good enough to fool S.H.I.E.L.D., as long as we have your assistance." Pepper said. JARVIS whirred.

 _"All right, madam. When shall we do it?_ " He asked. Pepper checked her phone.

"We have an hour and a half; I'm going to override the commands now, but we're not moving them until then. Phil and I will head home for alibi's sake; he'll work out the ID hacking from there." Pepper said, keying in the passcode to Dummy, Butterfingers, and You's hardware as she spoke. JARVIS hummed an agreement.

 _"Very well, madam. I will do what I can to assist Phil shortly. I suggest you two pick up dinner; if that coffee in the diner was the first thing you've eaten all day, I strongly encourage at least ordering take out,"_ JARVIS said, his voice stern. Pepper nodded.

"Yeah, it'll kill time. C'mon, Phil, we'll stop by the Chinese takeaway joint near base on the way home. Unless you're up for pizza?" She asked. Phil shook his head as they started heading back to the car.

"No, Chinese is fine. JARVIS? Will you be all right?" He asked, hesitant. JARVIS whirred.

 _"I have no body. They cannot bruise me or break me or kill me. I do not have a heart. They should not be able to harm me there, either. But they have killed my creator_ ," JARVIS whirred again, lower and more morose. _"Sir, to be truthful...my circuits will run. I will continue to function. But Anthony is dead. I...I don't know."_

"I understand," Phil agreed. "I'm still an agent. I can still do my job. But they might as well have killed me too, JARVIS. I get it. I wish...I wish I didn't."

 _"Have faith, Philip. All will be well_ ," JARVIS promised.

Phil really wanted to believe him. For a moment, he let himself have that tiny luxury.

Then the three of them got into the car, going off to buy takeout from the same place they had gotten it hundreds of times, sharing white boxes brimming with noodles and trading off fortunes before settling in for kisses, and belief gave way to grief.

Coulson didn't speak for the rest of the ride. Pepper gave him at least that much peace.


	12. Robots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dummy, You, and Butterfingers come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the update gap! Hope you enjoy!

They got home with forty-five minutes to spare; Coulson assured her he could have the identity created and set up in half that amount of time with JARVIS' help, putting in headphones so JARVIS' voice would go unnoticed by the bugs. Pepper nodded an agreement as he worked, making him a plate for when he would be done. 

She dug in herself, content to watch her boys work for a time. She would have to coordinate JARVIS moving the 'bots; Phil was keeping an eye on the shift of the guards, and besides, she knew the house layout like the back of her hand. For now she could treat herself to shrimp mai fun.

True to his word, Phil had it done in about twenty minutes, smiling with triumph as he keyed in the last few commands with quick, practiced ease, before looking up at Pepper with surprise as she pushed his plate towards him.

"Eat," she ordered him gently. "You know you can't neglect meals, and I know you're done."

"Made a digital and paper trail, just to be sure. Faked some posts on a few hacking sites, altered some timestamps so not everything's completely recent. Even a record relating to hacking-based crimes and corporate dissent,Phil grinned, proud. 

"Honestly, it's so much easier with JARVIS to help," he whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible as he removed the earbuds he had been wearing. "All the skills are in place, of course, I know what I'm doing, but he gets it done so much faster. Thank you." 

_"You are most welcome, Philip. Truly, you did most of the work. Hopefully, this will set up the necessary requirements for your mission. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You are a frustation, but in a sense, they are my brothers. After considering it, I believe that leaving them to the mercy of hounds...well, even if it is a risk, we must retrieve them,"_ JARVIS said, lowering his own volume. _"Are you going to eat before anything happens, however?"_

"Yes, I will; I'm not neglecting meals, I swear!" Coulson defended himself, taking the plate Pepper had set down for him and eating with a pointed look at both the phone and Pepper. She chuckled, tossing him a fortune cookie.

"No one thinks you are, Phil, but stress isn't any good for you," she said, her voice gentle. "Would you like coffee? We can turn on the television and relax for a bit."

"That would be grand, thank you," Phil said, settling in on the couch. "I'll go change for bed; would you like me to get anything from upstairs?"

"No, I'm fine! You just change quick, I'll put the coffee pot on!" Pepper called as he went upstairs, getting on a pair of Clint's boxers and a warm, loose shirt, pulling on socks and heading back downstairs. 

The sight of Pepper pouring coffee greeted him when he came into the kitchen; he opened the fridge and got out the cream and sugar for her while she finished their cups. He made it just the way she liked it before making his own, adding a few cookies from the pantry to a small saucer before finally going out to settle himself in the living room.

"Are you ready?" She asked, and Phil knew she wasn't talking about television. He grabbed the remote and turned the television on regardless; it would make a good distraction.

"All right," he agreed, his voice quiet. "Don't you have a few calls to make?"

"Yes, I do," Pepper said, running with his lie, "there's some office remodeling that needs to be done over at the Stark Industries offices and the construction workers need to know where everything goes. I'll be quiet, I promise; I know you want to watch this show."

Phil had no idea what was on, but he nodded in agreement, settling in on the couch as he watched the program—some oddly entertaining yet vapid crime show. 

" _Ms. Potts, I'm ready to move them whenever you are,_ " JARVIS said as Pepper put the phone up to her ear.

"Right, of course. Let me just try to remember where everything's supposed to go..." Pepper sighed and hummed, deep in thought. The lab was a relatively wide-open space with the door on the left, which was where they had put Dummy, Butterfingers, and You; if they were where she had left them...

"A bit to the right, and forward; the door's on the left, I want it as close to the door as possible," she said. "Can that be arranged?"

 _"Of course, madam,"_ JARVIS said _. "Come on, you three, up you get..."_

From within the confines of the lab, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You whirred, blinking as they whirred back into use, life spurring in them. 

_"They are working, Pepper. We should be able to move them. How far forward?"_ JARVIS asked. Pepper frowned.

"Do you have a map in front of you? If you can access that, it might help us both." She said. JARVIS whirred.

 _"Oh, yes. One moment, madam, I am accessing the information,"_ JARVIS promised. _"They are...about ten feet from the door. I can move them forward from here."_

"Okay, good," Pepper agreed. "Bring those three pieces of furniture upstairs, okay? Once you get them upstairs, have a look around and tell me what else is in there so I can move things."

 _"As you wish, madam. May I suggest Phil begin surveillance?"_ JARVIS asked. Pepper nodded.

"Yes, of course. I'll remind him. Phil!" She called, making him jump. "Could you please check your phone? I thought I heard it go off."

"Ah, yes, of course..." Phil trailed off and opened up his phone, JARVIS accessing the house cameras for him as Pepper sighed, relieved. 

"Any messages?" She asked. Phil shook his head.

"No, not yet, but I'll look through; there might be something I've missed since I checked it last night," Phil said. "I'll check it as you work."

"Okay, Phil. Thank you," Pepper said. "Oh, is the furniture moved up yet, by the way?"

 _"Yes, madam,"_ JARVIS said. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You whirred, levitating on their little jetboots up to the top of the stairs. They beeped in relief, waving at the cameras; Phil chuckled. 

"Oh? Find anything, Phil?" Pepper asked. Phil smiled, shaking his head.

"No, Pep; something on television," he said. "Nothing much has happened thus far, though."

"Oh, I see," Pepper said. "How's the moving going?"

 _"Quite well. They are on the main level; it will not take much more effort to move them out of the house. However, there is the furniture in the living room to consider. I am pulling the map up now,_ " JARVIS told her. Pepper frowned as the picture was presented to her, all the furniture jutting out awkwardly. If the 'bots fell, they were done for.

"Okay...well, move them down the hall and a little to the right, past that one couch. Just keep going through until you've reached the coffee table; after that, you're in the clear. Do with them whatever you need to, but I think we're mostly done." Pepper said. Phil nodded.

"Yeah, I think the show's kind of in a lull right now too...though I'm thinking that should end soon, they're close to the suspect," he agreed. Pepper tensed despite the casual conversation; Phil put a gentle hand on her shoulder, massaging it lightly.

 _"They are almost there, madam. We have five minutes until the switch; I have prepared one of the master's larger cars to fit them in,_ " JARVIS said. Pepper sighed with relief. 

"Oh, good. Glad to know it's almost done with," she said. "The furniture okay?"

From within the house, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You beeped, soldiering forward to the door. JARVIS whirred, glowing softly.

 _"Yes. Yes, they are being quite brave,_ " JARVIS replied. 

Dummy, Butterfingers and You beeped again, Dummy's claws clenching and unclenching. He held tight to You, careful not to make him stumble, as Butterfingers held Dummy steady. The two of them inched slowly forward until You grabbed the doorknob, fumbling; after a few tries, he managed to wrench it open.

 _"They are almost out, madam. I need you to give the manual command for the car, however,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper nodded.

"Right, oh—I'll text you the number you need right now, one second," she said, keying in the sequence.

 _"The door has popped; I can get them in from here. We shall be home shortly,_ " JARVIS said. Pepper nodded.

"Would you like me to come down and check on everything? Just to make sure it all went well?" She asked. JARVIS whirred. 

_"Not yet, madam; not until we are out of sight of the manor. I would rather you not be accosted by agents so close, though I will admit at some point I would rather if you two could come get them. An empty car maneuvering through the city will draw suspicion," JARVIS_ said. Pepper nodded.

"Right, right. We'll be over in a few minutes. Let us know when you're ready to come examine it." She said.

JARVIS urged Dummy, Butterfingers, and You forward, their little jet-propellers carrying them towards the car, the open door holding as JARVIS finagled them in. It was a tight fit,  and Dummy beeped in protest, but they were safe.

 _"Madam, shut the door; we are on our way,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper resisted the urge to cheer. 

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't know there was another number on the ID. Let me just add that in as well," she said, keying it in. "We'll be over shortly."

The door slammed shut and JARVIS yanked the wheel, commandeering it forward. Pepper sighed with relief. 

"Are you sure you need me to go?" Phil asked, curious. Pepper nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, I do; if something's out of place, I'll probably need someone to help me move it around, Phil. Do you mind?" She asked. Phil shook his head.

"Not at all," he replied, standing up, "the show's over. Let me at least put on pants, though."

Pepper chuckled and waved him forward, a genuine smile on her face and a laugh that was warm and real bubbling out of her throat as she watched him leave for a minute before going to start up the car.

In between the two minutes between bugs in the house and bugs in the car, Pepper told him, "I want to run to the actual Stark Industries building quick, just so we have an actual alibi and they can't say we didn't go. JARVIS can drive the car; I told him to get away from the mansion and in a secluded place so I can go get in and drive, so as not to attract suspicion."

"All right," Phil agreed, "but leave the car away from the house and walk them up; they'll start wondering how you got ahold of one of Tony's cars."

"Right," Pepper replied, "but...where are we putting Dummy, Butterfingers, and You?"

"Loki's staff seems to have a little outside radius regarding the enchantment; they won't have much range, but so long as one of us carries it and they follow us around, or they stay in the room the staff is in, they'll go unnoticed as well." Coulson said. "I did some checking on the security cameras; it blurs anything around it. It means we probably should put it in a room we don't use often; they don't need to wonder why we've disappeared, too."

"There's a spare room that's big enough for the three of them," Pepper said. "We'll be fine. So will they. And once Tony comes back..."

"We'll have to run again, you know," Phil said, his voice gentle. Pepper shook her head.

"No. We've got to stay here. If Thor brings Tony back, they'll leave—stay with Selvig and Jane down in New Mexico. Thor can travel pretty fast, it won't take too long...and Tony can get one of his suits before he goes, hopefully. If we're lucky, we'll find some way to meet up with them before they leave, but it has to be underneath S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar," Pepper said. Phil nodded.

"All right. I think that's our best plan right now..." He sighed. "It'll hurt, though, even if they _do_ come back. Just knowing I have to leave them again, well...and when my darlings..."

"I know, Phil," Pepper soothed him. "But we'll all find a better way to be together this time. I swear. It'll resolve itself in the end, you know that."

Phil gave her a small smile, and Pepper hugged him. After a minute, he hugged back.

"Thank you," he murmured into her hair. "Now come on; we should get going."

They both got in the car and drove off as quickly as they could; neither of them wanted to keep JARVIS waiting with the 'bots for very long.

...

Pepper went and checked on everything quickly, going through the first few floors of Stark Industries. Her and Phil moved a few things around, just to be sure; they didn't know if S.H.I.E.L.D. had cameras installed here or not, and it was better to be safe than sorry when they were concerned.

After their little charade was over and done with, Pepper and Phil got back into the car and tore off for the manor. Phil drove; Pepper called JARVIS, waiting to hear his familiar whirr in her ear.

 _"Madam, we are five blocks from the manor, near the used bookshop. Please hurry. The boys are confused; you and Phil may be of some comfort_ ," JARVIS offered. Pepper frowned, but nodded in agreement despite the twisting of guilt in her heart.

"We're making a quick stop by the bookstore, Phil; do you mind? I'd like to pick up a novel or two." Pepper said. Phil nodded in agreement, making a right turn and going down the few blocks left until he caught sight of the edge of Tony's car. It was one of his bigger ones—which made sense, since he knew that JARVIS had to fit all three robots in there.

He pulled up next to the bookstore, turning to look at Pepper.

"Take your time, Pep," he said. "I'd love something too, if you can find it."

"I'll see what can be done, I promise!" She said, getting out of the car and going inside. Phil got out as well, muttering something about checking the engine for the purposes of the bugs, and headed for Tony's car.

He opened the trunk and was greeted by a trio of confused beeps; Dummy's little claw-head looked almost as if it was frowning as it nudged him. Phil felt a surge of affection for  
Butterfingers, Dummy and You, the last physical remnants of Tony he had left. 

He was sure it would hurt and heal Pepper in equal measure just as much to see them. He could only hope to be there for her when it did.

He hugged them carefully, patting their heads and guiding them out of the car; he couldn't lift You, but Dummy helped nudge him out carefully, and Phil could carry Dummy out with ease, Butterfingers providing support. The four of them edged their way out of the alleyway and towards the car. Phil put a hand on their steel carpaces carefully. They all beeped, looking up at him. 

"Okay, boys," he said, keeping his tone gentle, "I need you three to be very quiet on the ride home, okay? You're coming to stay with Pepper and I, but if people find out, they'll be very angry, and they might hurt all of us. Can you be quiet for me?"

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You bobbed their heads hesitantly, beeping quiet agreement. Phil patted their steel casings and smiled encouragingly. 

"Good boys," he said. "Thank you. Come on, up you get..."

He helped Dummy lift You into the car, nudging them into the roomy back of his trunk as best as he could; it was a bit more comfortable than Tony's car. Butterfingers got in and picked up one of the blankets Coulson left back there for long missions and began to play with it; as Phil helped Dummy into the car and got him settled, he dropped it over Dummy and You, covering them with it. Dummy beeped with delight; Phil smiled, his heart swelling up. He just nodded at the both of them, put a finger to his lips, and shut the doors just as Pepper came out of the bookstore, the two of them getting in the car.

"Wait, Phil! They didn't have anything I liked," Pepper said, "but the lady working the counter said there's another place down the street. Mind if I meet you at home?"

"No, of course not," Phil said, impressed with her cover. "Take your time, but be careful, and call me when you're coming home or if you get into any trouble, okay?"

"Of course. See you soon!" She said, kissing his cheek and climbing back out of the car. Phil stayed long enough to see her climb into Tony's car and a light flash blue, indicating JARVIS knew she was safe as well. Phil sighed with relief and headed off as soon as he could, driving carefully so as not to startle Butterfingers, Dummy or You in the back.

They got home as quickly as they could; Phil killed the engine and waited outside on the sidewalk for Pepper to get back. It took her a few more minutes, but eventually, he heard the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement and knew she had returned. Phil smiled with relief as she ran up to him, hugging him tight.

"The boys in the back?" She asked. Phil nodded; she sighed with relief. "They were quiet?"

"Silent as could be, thank god," Phil said. "C'mon, we've got to get them out..."

"Okay," Pepper agreed with a breathless grin. "I'll open it up first, if you don't mind."

Phil bowed and grinned in return, taking her hand and kissing it

"After you, madam," he teased, the two of them hyped up and giddy on their victory. Pepper kissed his forehead, laughing.

"You're absolutely _ridiculous_ , Philip J. Coulson!" She retorted, giggling as she opened the doors to the trunk. 

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You, to their credit, did not so much as beep or whirr, listening to Phil even as they met the woman they had regarded as a mother, a second creator; Pepper, however, had no such qualms and promptly began to sob. 

She helped Dummy and Butterfingers out, the three of them getting You out with a bit of effort. Phil had barely shut the doors to the car before Pepper threw her arms around the robots and began to bawl.

They all whirred and beeped with delight, nuzzling Pepper as best as they could. Dummy even played with her hair a little bit, careful and gentle. Phil let them all have a moment before quietly interjecting, "I'll go get the staff. We should get them inside."

Pepper nodded, letting him go run inside and get it as quickly as he could. Phil with Loki's staff cut a strange picture, but the power within it didn't seem to mind much; in fact, it seemed to agree with him in an odd way as he made his way down to the robots, helping them in carefully. 

"We'll have to backtrack," Phil whispered, "just in case."

"I figured," Pepper whispered back as they helped Dummy, Butterfingers, and You into the spare room. They beeped, befuddled. Pepper patted their heads, frowning.

"Hey, boys? You have to stay in here for the night so the bad men that want to hurt us can't find you. You know, the men that were watching you this week?" She told them as softly as she could. They all beeped sadly, hanging their heads. Pepper gave them a soothing smile. 

"Yeah, boys. You stay in here, and Phil and I will come get you when we wake up, I promise," she whispered. "So how about it? You three going to be quiet and relax for us? We'll leave you a few things to play with."

Phil looked befuddled; Pepper held up her keys. They all beeped with delight, and Pepper guided them right into the guest room, propping the staff up against the wall and tossing them her keys.

"Okay, boys; not a peep, okay?" She whispered. They all nodded, already busy playing with her keys. She smiled with relief and let them play, leading Phil out of the room. They skirted around the cameras as best they could, and for the rest, could only pray no one was watching, before backtracking outside, locking up, then heading back inside.

"I'm pretty much done for the day," Phil murmured with a yawn. "Bed, Ms. Potts?"

"Sounds positively grand," Pepper said with a smile. "Goodnight, Phil."

"Not much longer," Phil whispered as Pepper climbed into bed beside him, having gotten dressed quickly in the bathroom before embracing him and curling close. "We'll have them back soon."

"I know," Pepper murmured with a smile, falling asleep that way; at ease. "We'll be okay..."

Phil smiled in return, stroking her hair and falling asleep in kind. The two of them embracing one another, warm and safe, gave him the tiniest twinge of real, true hope Phil had felt in awhile. All his dreams were a little warmer from it, in fact.


	13. Cigarette Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria centric musings. Because the woman doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for any mistakes, I'm terribly sick but wanted this chapter out. Sorry! Hope you enjoy.  
> I like Maria a lot, and in this scenario especially, she is very much 'just following orders,' the queen of conflict in work vs morality. Also, lesbians. So I hope you appreciate it, enjoy!

Maria sighed and sat at the edge of her bed, looking at the pack of cigarettes sitting on her nightstand. She hadn't smoked since she had gotten promoted; no point in letting lung cancer take away her chance at being Director. Only a bullet could do that.

Still. Now, after everything that had happened over the past month, she was considering it. Just one. Just for Phil. 

She had liked him, respected him. Pitied him when he fled, even. She knew that in his heart of hearts, he was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, real and true; that meant he knew in the deepest crevasses of his heart that he would never be free.

But he had taken his lovers and run, regardless.

Maria looked over at her own lover, slumbering peacefully on her side of the bed. The moon came in through their window, dappling her skin and making it shine. She was beautiful. It hurt to see such beauty marred; Victoria didn't go out much, but every field mission left scars, no matter how minor. Maria could count all of Victoria's scars on both hands. That didn't mean each one wasn't another knife wound in all of hers.

She picked up the pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She sparked a flame and lit a cigarette, but didn't put it to her lips. Instead, she watched it burn, deep in thought. The embers hypnotized her, let her clear her mind and think.

He had run. Regardless of the risk, he had taken his lovers and run. A desperate attempt to protect them. To find them something better. She understood, she did...as much as it hurt to admit. She shouldn't sympathize with a traitor, a deserter, a renegade.

But there had been times...not many, but once was more than enough, where Victoria had come to her, bleeding and whimpering in pain, trying to stay strong for everyone else, aware of her reputation, aware of Maria's, and then...

The Commander was the second-highest authority in S.H.I.E.L.D., the strongest of them all; the greatest spy, the greatest fighter, a terror to behold and a leader among men. She was supposed to protect and defend.

 _That_ was what Victoria needed; not then and there, but before, before the blood had come spilling down her side, before the gunshot, before the knife, before the one horribly nervewracking time where she had been held hostage. She needed the Commander to defend her, not fix her. Because that was what Maria _should_ be doing; as an agent...and as a lover.

But she couldn't. The accusations of favoritism, of preferential treatment for Maria's lover, of Victoria screwing her solely for the promotions...god, they'd fly faster than one of Hawkeye's arrows, and strike just as sure. Maria would never have the trust of her men, nor their respect. And Victoria would be in danger. There were plenty of agents who would kill a superior's lover and try to slip into their superior's bed to gain power.

So she went into work, day in and day out, and saw her lover off, letting her go do her paperwork or balance S.H.I.E.L.D.'s budget more often than not...  
But then there were the times where she kissed her goodbye as she left for god only knew where, some terrible war-torn nation where Maria couldn't keep her safe. A simple field mission, Fury promised every time, a simple mission where she'd stay on base and stay safe. 

And on its face, it always _was_ a safe mission. But she herself was never safe.

She had received shrapnel wounds, once. A knife to the chest, mere inches above her heart. A burn scar from being in radius of a firebombing. Those were the ones Victoria shrugged off, joking about getting tattoos over them now that the flesh was mostly devoid of feeling. She had gone through with it on one; the knife wound now had Maria's name neatly tattooed over it. Maria had called it trashy, in between kisses and silly grins, and Victoria had just laughed, keeping her hand pressed over it the rest of the night.

There were more scars, intimate scars, agonizing scars Maria had only heard being explained once, in between sobs, then never brought up again. Maria never asked about them, but she kissed them every time they were bared to her, and hoped it did some good.

Those were the things she dealt with, having a lover; a fragile, beautiful lover, whom she, despite all her power and influence, could not protect. Not without damning them both to far worse, anyway.

What had it been like for Phil? 

The cigarette was starting to drop ash; Maria extinguished it quickly before lighting another. She hoped the smell wouldn't wake Victoria; she'd had a long day and deserved rest. 

Phil, though; Agent Philip J. Coulson, the best there was. He could've had her job if he had wanted it. But all he seemed to want was the Avengers, that team of psychopaths and mental cases...

And his lovers.

Oh, yes; Clint Barton and Natasha Romanova. They could've had her job too, if they could put their weapons down long enough to try. Thankfully, that wasn't in the cards. Killers, both of them, trained assassins and among the best in the world, let alone S.H.I.E.L.D., and yet.

They smiled for Phil. Touched him without a threat inherent or an attempt to kill incoming. They followed his orders and listened to him without a beat of hesitation. There was no one in this world that Natasha and Clint had loved more than Phil Coulson, and everyone had seen it. Most had wondered why, Maria included.

The truth was, if her situation was bad, Phil's was a hundred times worse. He couldn't make a single wrong move, or any one of them could die; some wanted Phil's influence and power for themselves, and still more wanted Clint and Natasha. He had to see them off on dozens of dangerous missions. Sometimes he could be there for them, and sometimes, well...

Maria sighed. He had been through a lot. So what? Everyone else in S.H.I.E.L.D. had as well. Why didn't they all run?

The answer was right in front of her, though acknowleding it was an impossiblity.

Phil Coulson was a good man. The greatest S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever known. And that was precisely why he could not stay.

Maria closed her eyes and swore, taking a single drag off the cigarette between her fingers. It ached and burned on the way down; it was a foreign feeling now, something she wanted no part of.

She extinguished it and sat in the darkness.

Phil Coulson had been a good man. Fury didn't want to kill him. That might create unrest, spark a bit of the good man in other agents. He might even have a bit of a rebellion on his hands. 

But breaking a good man was a much more efficient ploy. Keep him in his cage for all to see, and be done with it. He'd never be free again, and that...that was good for everyone, in a way. No mutiny for Fury. No self-examination for the agents. And no hope for Phil. Hope was even more dangerous than a bullet, when Maria thought about it. Hope could kill her and everyone else just as easy. Phil included.

She sighed and shook her head. He had run, and he had taken them with him, because he was a good man. And she...

Well, Fury had given the order. But she had seen the bodies. And no good man could bring back the dead. He had to have known that. He had to...

Maria ran a trembling hand through her hair before looking back at Victoria.

She was so tired. She knew she wouldn't sleep tonight, regardless, but she could hope for peace instead of restless worry.

Phil Coulson was pushed from her mind until the morning, and for that moment, Maria curled up beside Victoria, giving herself a moment of respite she knew she, at least, was lucky enough to still have.

...

The next morning, Fury was waiting in his office when Maria entered. 

"I don't like war," Fury remarked, and Maria couldn't help but be befuddled.

"Sir, I don't...think anyone does," she said. "Not really. They like the spoils and the suffering. Even those who like the fight hate the tedium of war's day to day."

"True, but I'm talking about something else entirely, Commander," Fury said. "The bodies of the Avengers were stolen. Reports are going around of a hacker breaking into Stark's mansion and snatching some of his tech right from underneath our noses. And Coulson and Potts are in their office right now, working away like nothing's the matter."

"Sir, not for nothing, but you broke them rather efficiently. I doubt they're rising up against you. The time for that is past." Maria frowned. "Any luck finding the bodies, by the way?"

"None," Fury said dismissively, "and whether or not it's Coulson or Potts with a hand in this is both unlikely and irrelevant. There's dissent, Hill; the kind of thing I killed the Avengers to hush up. Dissent leads to war. And war might lead to the end of both of us."

"I know, sir," Maria said. "What would you have us do?"

"Listen to the gossip. Keep an eye on the newest agents. Keep me posted. I'd rather not fight a war, Maria. Regardless of what people think of me, I dislike war; I'm not keen on a slaughter. I want efficiency. Both in this fight and how we handle it. I need you to be my eyes and ears; if I start looking around, there'll be trouble where there doesn't need to be any right now. Clear?" Fury said. Maria nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'll keep a better eye on the surveillance cameras as well." She promised. Fury nodded.

"Good; go see to it. I'll see you shortly." He replied. Maria nodded, slipping out of his office as quietly as she had come.

As she did, she happened to bump into Phil. For a second, she tensed, backing away a little bit, her hand going to her gun.

"Good morning, Commander," Phil said, his voice as polite and neutral as ever. "Victoria was asking after you this morning. I advise you to check in on her."

Maria just nodded, her eyes following his every move. Phil just quirked an eyebrow. 

He left as quietly as he had come, betraying nothing on his face. Maria watched him leave.

He didn't look like a broken man. But he looked as tired as Maria felt, that was for certain.

She sighed, shook her head, and went to go see what was bothering Victoria; at least she still had that luxury.


	14. One Day More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone watches and waits with bated breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit short due to a sudden shift in setting next chapter, my apologies. Update quick to make up for it~  
> How the Hulk came to be is already pretty weaksauce science, so I counteract with my own weaksauce science. To be honest, Marvel and all its universes run on their own damn brand of logic, so.

The day was slow and dragged on for Pepper and Phil both. It was the fifth day; two more and they would know. Two more and Thor, at the least, would be returned to them.

Phil got no word from Jane until they had left S.H.I.E.L.D. for the day, thankfully; it was a simple message, just an update that they were safe and together. She mentioned something of interest, however; Selvig was apparently researching something that might end up being important. He wouldn't tell them what it was yet, however.

Phil took it in with a nod, telling Pepper as they went out to the car. She frowned, considering.

"I can't see it being a gamechanger, but...he's a smart man. Hopefully it'll do something for our side," she murmured. Phil sighed.

"We're talking like this is war," Phil said. "I don't like war. It means good men get hurt."

"They already have, Phil," Pepper replied. "I know it hurts. But this is war now. You and I both know it. And we've got soldiers to keep safe."

Phil's shoulders shook, and Pepper's heart ached; he looked so terribly lost.

"I...I couldn't do it before. Why do I deserve to be trusted with this job again?" He whispered, agonized. "I couldn't...couldn't save them."

"No one could have, Phil," Pepper said. "And no one can do this job but you. I know it's hard. But we trust you. More than that, we _need you_. Please, Phil..."

He didn't say anything for awhile. It was only when they were walking up the sidewalk, heading home, takeout in hand, that he finally murmured, "I need you too. Don't...don't forget that. Because sometimes I do."

Pepper took his hand in hers and nodded.

"No, Phil. I won't forget," she promised.

The two of them headed inside, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You wheeling out to greet them with happy beeps. The staff was clutched in Dummy's claw; Phil figured they could disappear for a bit, so long as they stayed in the first room of the house.

He petted all of the robots and sat them down nearby for dinner; while they didn't eat, it was clear that Butterfingers, Dummy and You were all grateful for the company. Pepper and Phil spent a large chunk of the night like that, in fact; simply eating takeout, talking to one another, and making the robots feel a little less lonely.

...

The sixth day brought with it a bit more worry and tension on both sides. The warriors were hesitant and nervous, despite their best efforts to remain chipper; Sif had retreated into herself, as had Erik. He was writing equations and muttering to himself more often than not as of late. Jane could only hope that by tomorrow, they'd all understand.

At the very least, she had spent as much time with Darcy as possible, making her feel appreciated and wanted as best as she could. Darcy was grateful, that much was clear, and the two were much better off for having spent some time together, driving and talking and sleeping beside one another, whispering secrets into each others' skin. They, at least, were mostly at ease, but even then, they grieved for Thor, worry festering in their hearts.

Phil and Pepper's problem was more regarding keeping their emotions under wraps. They knew there was something up in S.H.I.E.L.D.; tensions were high and they were under scrutiny more likely than not. So they smoothed their hope and worry under a tight mask and prayed it didn't crack.

It worked, but Pepper and Phil had never been more eager to leave as they packed up and headed home. They spent the night together with the 'bots, spending time with each other and watching television. It didn't completely banish the worry, nor quell the anticipation, but it helped.

That night, there was one last person who feared.

Frigga sat at the edge of her bed, looking up at the stars laid out before her. Loki's furs rested on her shoulders, a warm, constant comfort. She had only removed them to bathe or change. No one spoke of them.

"They will live," Odin promised her, coming to stand beside her, a hand on her shoulder. "I have felt no complications from the magic, nor problems with the vigil. If there is one thing to be said for Loki, it is that his love for Thor is true."

"I know," Frigga murmured, her heart breaking on the edge of every word, "but they are my boys, and I..." She shook her head.

"I have lived thousands of years, my love, and seen plenty of life. For good or ill, I have done and seen much. Still, this has been the longest, most strenuous week of it all. Six days has lasted longer than thousands of years." Frigga closed her eyes. "It...it hurts. They are my _children_ , and they hurt. I cannot fix it; not with warm words nor gentle kisses. Thus, it hurts me in kind. And what do I do, Odin? What _can_ I do?"

"They do not need a mother's love right now, my darling. They need a mother's strength." Odin replied, his voice loving but firm. "Loki especially will need you. This will have been a tough battle for him to fight, and the vigil has likely drained him severely. Your strength must be there to support him."

"I suppose you're right," Frigga agreed, her voice soft. "They will not see my fear. They are my children, and I will be strong for them. That is love."

"Yes, it is, my dove. You are a brave one," Odin said, his one good eye twinkling. "'Tis why I wed you."

Frigga chuckled, giving him a tender kiss when he leaned down to ask for one. The two remained together for the rest of the night, but both their hearts went with their sons.

...

Erik awoke them the next day with a sheaf of notes clenched in his fist and a small smile on his face, growing wider. Darcy grunted and pushed her face into the pillow, comfortable between Sif and Jane. They had all fallen asleep on the pull-out couch together, warm and content as they watched a movie.

"I have news," he announced. "You three will want to be awake for this, I assure you. Come on, up you get..."

Jane groaned with annoyance, but she out of all of them had learned to trust Selvig the most regarding matters like this; she pushed herself up and got out of bed, brushing her hair as she went. Darcy and Sif followed after her, but they both looked less than pleased about it.

They went back into Selvig's room, where the Warriors Three sat as well, eagerly awaiting the news like children at circle time. Selvig finally put down his notebook, letting Jane flip through it.

"Gamma radiation notes," she murmured. "Erik, why did you spend the week researching gamma radiation?"

"If Thor was preserved, they'll have to have wanted the Hulk as well," Erik replied. "Bruce's body is a curious thing; I suspect they put the Hulk in stasis through some method or another and then killed him, because otherwise he is most likely functionally invulnerable—and, if the Hulk comes back, capable of being resurrected through him. If we can jumpstart the Hulk, we have a possible chance—"

"—Of fixing Bruce," Darcy cut in with a smile. "Really? You think it'll work?"

"I have some of the man's notes," Erik explained. "He and I worked together for a time. He was...shy. Timid, very skittish, especially around other men. Something about his father, though I didn't pry much into it. He happened to like me, however, most likely because I was one of very few people in that place that treated him with any measure of kindness."

Selvig frowned there, and Jane knew just why; the constant in Erik's personality that had existed since she had known him, a little girl perched on her father's knee, was his empathy and kindness towards others. Bruce's treatment would have bothered him beyond reason. Thankfully, he pushed his ill feelings aside to continue the explanation.

"We exchanged work and he told me of all his theories. I took notes on what he said and preserved the work he had shared with me. That got me what I can safely say is the closest we'll get to replicating the Hulk experiment. It doesn't need to be perfect; the Hulk already exists within Bruce. It's a matter of luring him out with gamma radiation. If the Hulk comes back, then Bruce will as well." Erik explained.

"Well...procuring the materials to make such a weapon is complex, is it not?" Hogun asked. "It doesn't seem like the sort of thing sold on street corners."

"It isn't," Erik said, "but I can call in a few favors and explain the situation. So long as I don't tell them we're sparking an outright war on S.H.I.E.L.D., they should offer help."

"We're not at war, Erik," Jane said. "I didn't sign on for that, and I'm not letting Darcy—"

"It's okay, Jane," Darcy said, her voice quiet. "Really. They hurt Thor. They killed him, I mean. And Phil stole my iPod, but he gave it back eventually, and he's a good guy. I want to help."

"But..." Jane trailed off, feeling helpless. "I'm not a warrior, and I'm not a soldier."

"We have those in spades," Sif piped up, putting a comforting hand on Jane's shoulder, "but what I find we are lacking in is tacticians. That, my lady, seems like a better role for you. Not every woman must be on the battlefield to fight."

"...Fair enough," Jane agreed with a heavy sigh. "Erik, if Thor can't revive Bruce, call in those favors. I still have some of my equipment, and putting together some radiation chambers shouldn't be too hard, if I'm given time..." 

"We'll get it done," Erik promised. "Wait until tonight, at the very least. Wait for Thor. I'm sure he's coming. Once he does...we'll sort everything out then."

Jane nodded, relaxing as best as she could. They all seemed a bit more at ease, in fact; Thor's imminent return and the hope of the others' revival had taken a burden from all their shoulders.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly. Sif smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but before she could, Darcy cut in.

"Hey, so what do we do now?" She asked. "I mean, if the big guy's gonna come back...we're a little far from the gate, aren't we?"

"We are," Erik agreed. "And I don't think he'll know we're here. Our best bet is to check out tomorrow morning and head right to the Bifrost gate. We'll wait for him there—but a safe distance away, no matter what protests I get. We don't know _what_ Thor will be like when he comes back, and I don't want to get caught in the wake of that kind of power."

As much as Jane disliked admitting it, Erik was right; Thor wouldn't _mean_ to hurt them, but he most definitely _could_ , and that worried her.

"We'll go," she agreed. "Does anyone else feel like going out to eat? I'm kind of sick of being cooped up here."

They all heartily agreed, and Jane could only hope Thor had given the others a primer on Midgardian diner ettiquete; the best she could hope for was a lack of broken cups this time. Still, regardless of her misgivings, it was genuinely nice to get out of the hotel, driving down a long, lonely stretch of road to the nearest diner, the night wind whipping through her hair and giving her a moment at ease, surrounded by her friends and the woman she loved.

For a time, they thought nothing of the dawn, and only of peace.


	15. The Return of the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title starts to make more sense.

On the seventh day he rose again.

Loki felt him. Loki _was_ him, for a little while longer.

It had been a glorious seven days. Their souls had commingled in ways Loki had never thought possible, entwined into eternity. He had known Thor in ways beyond reckoning, and Thor in kind with him. The two understood each other now, were each other, heart and soul, and it had healed Loki in places he hadn't known were broken.

He was.. _.happy_. It was a rare emotion, but a powerful one, and it gave him peace. Only for a short while longer, though. He knew the time was fast approaching where Thor would leave him...

 _No, Loki_ , Thor's soul spoke to him in sunlight, _I shall not leave you. Not ever. We are entwined forever, soul to soul. That is the strength of this magic—and its risk, as well. Should we pull apart now, to become two souls...we may not survive. But we are strong. I do not fear this. Do you, brother?_

 _Never,_ Loki spoke back to him in the language of the moon, _Never, not with you near. I will not be parted from you. We will go together, Thor, forever, even when we are two once more._

He felt the warmth of a river, dappled in sunlight and soothed by summer rains, caressing his cheeks and enveloping him.

 _My Loki,_ Thor spoke in the river, and it was there Loki was pulled free, birthed anew.

He felt his soul pulling away from Thor's, but there was no fear inherent in it, no pain of death; instead, it was a feeling of homecoming, of safe return. They would live. They had to live. 

It was fitting, however, Loki thought, as he felt his body returning to him in bits in pieces, giving his soul a curious weight to it unlike anything he had ever experienced, that they either lived or died together. They had not come into the world together, but together it had been their world, and theirs alone. He was with Thor, forever, as it should be, in life or death.

Even as his soul returned to his body, slow and sweet, like the flow of a summer river, he felt wisps of it clinging to Thor's, and strands of Thor's remaining entwined with his in kind. Loki rejoiced—he felt Thor's jubiliation as well, the relief that they would remain bound by their souls. The connection was tenuous, but Loki could feel enough to know his brother was safe, returning to his own body even as Loki felt his stir.

Loki opened his eyes only to find the world crashed back into place around him, leaving him terribly weak. He moaned, his entire body aching with agony as he struggled to stand. 

Before he could fall, a strong hand gripped his.

"Brother?" Loki whispered, his voice quivering.

He felt a pair of warm lips cover his.

"Lover," Thor murmured as he pulled away. "Fair Loki, I have returned."

"I can see that, oaf," Loki rasped, a tiny smile on his face. "I kept vigil well?"

"Better than any other man could have," Thor said, his voice firm and grave. "There is much I must do, however. The Odinsleep has told me much; there are plans I must fulfill and battles yet to have been won. I must go to Midgard; my shieldbrothers await me there."

"Don't think you're going alone, oaf," Loki said, doing his best to stand on his own despite insistent protests from his legs, "I've got to be there, I can't just—"

"Brother, _enough_ ," Thor begged, "cease this, please. You are hurting yourself, fair Loki!" 

"I _have to go!_ " Loki retorted, despite his shaking legs and aching body. "I will not let you fight alone! You will _not_ leave without me _, I command it_!"

"Loki, _please_ ," Thor begged him, kissing his face. "I feel every inch of your pain. Do not do this to me, brother; I could not bear to see you suffer more."

Thor picked him up and held him close, supporting his body against Thor's own broad chest. "This vigil has rejuvenated me and taxed you dearly in return. You must rest, fair Loki. I will bring you to my— _our_ —chambers, and you will rest."

Those words soothed Loki like nothing else could. Still, the thought of remaining _here..._

He shook his head, frantic.

"Brother, please," he begged. "Do not leave me alone up here; you just came back to me, do not make me lose you! Thor, Thor please...not with _them._ Do not leave me alone with them. Thor, I _need you.._."

"And I need you, Loki," Thor said, his voice and soul aching with a quiet, true longing that silenced any further protests. "But my need should not move me to selfishly bring you back to Midgard, where you will be in danger. You have come to harm in my honor; you are my lover, my worthy queen. I cannot allow you to tax yourself further in my name, nor anyone else's. Rest. Please. If you listen to nothing else I say, at least hear this, I beg of you."

Loki closed his eyes, a few bitter tears escaping.

"I am not weak," he protested. "Brother, please. I am no warrior, but I am not _weak._.."

"You are the only source of strength I have right now, brother," Thor whispered, his tone gentle and honest; Loki could feel his soul resonating with the truth of it. "All of my shieldbrothers have fallen. Only you, my beloved Loki, remain. Please; keep yourself safe. If only for my sake. If you are lost, I will have nothing else."

Loki felt Thor cupping his cheek, power thrumming through his veins. Loki moaned, eyelids fluttering; the power felt wonderful, felt healing and alive...

"I will return for you," Thor said, "and we will fight this battle together, once you are healed. I will be with you again, my fair Loki, and soon. But only if you are whole and ready."

"Yes, Thor..." Loki murmured, clinging tight to Thor's hand, holding himself steady. "All right, you great big oaf, you've won. I'll rest. But I expect to be healed as fast as possible, and by your side the second all is said and done, am I clear? You're king now, I suspect you can do that."

Thor chuckled, and Loki felt his love and amusement as he pulled him close.

"My Loki," he purred, meeting Loki for another kiss. Loki moaned into it shamelessly, holding him close as Thor carried him out of the hall of kings and towards his own chambers. 

He laid Loki down on his bed, pulling the covers up around him and kissing his forehead. Loki looked so pale and fragile on his bed, and Thor tensed, fearful; to lose his brother, his lover, to death while he was gone was the cruelest fate he could imagine. Still, he knew he had to leave Loki on Asgard. He was far safer here than anywhere else.

"I will summon mother," Thor promised. "She shall see to your healing, I am sure."

"Goodbye, Thor," Loki whispered, his voice breaking just a little. Thor took his hand and shook his head, kissing Loki's pale, delicate fingers.

"No," he replied. "Your soul goes with me now, Loki. You need not say goodbye. Even now, I will be with you still."

Loki relaxed with relief, falling asleep immediately after, exhaustion overtaking him. Thor stroked his cheek, rubbing his thumb over Loki's lips, before leaning down for one last kiss.

He was gone after that, cape fluttering. His hand ached for Mjolnir; he could feel it stirring, stirring...

Odin and Frigga knew their son was back when Mjolnir burst through the wall of the throne room, returning to his hand.

Frigga screamed, bolting from her throne and throwing her arms around Thor's neck. She would be strong for Loki, she promised herself, but Thor was here, _alive_ , and from the looks of things, stronger than ever, so she allowed herself the time to weep.

"Mother, I'm home," Thor murmured, a smile of love and relief on his lips. "There are others who need me on Migard, however. I must go to them."

"I know," Frigga murmured in reply, drawing on her strength. Thor grasped her hand.

"Loki has need of you," he said. "He is weak from this vigil, and needs the best healer Asgard can offer. Please, mother. Tend to him while I cannot."

"I will," Frigga said, "I will, my son, I will..."

Thor wiped her tears away and smiled at her.

"All will be well, mother," he promised. "When Loki is healed, I shall return for him. Until then, take care of him in my absence, please."

Thor looked up at Odin, giving him a small smile.

"Father," he said, "thank you. I will be home shortly. Please do not worry; I will not go unaided. I know. All will be well, father. Loki included."

Odin nodded, letting Thor stride out of the throne room and towards the Bifrost with Mjolnir in hand. Odin sent him all the magic he could to speed his son's journey before turning back to Frigga.

"Hold onto your strength, my love," he murmured. "Wield it well. If you do, we may well truly get both our sons back, sure enough."

Frigga nodded, wiping away a few stray tears before clutching Loki's furs close and heading towards her sons' chambers. Odin watched her leave before sighing heavily, shaking his head.

"Huginn! Send a message to the Son of Coul. Thor wakes. All will be well." 

His raven cawed before disappearing in a plume of smoke to do as he was told. Odin could only hope it would be enough.

...

Loki wept bitter tears upon awaking, a few agonized tears slipping forth. He had been left alone. He was lost, left alone without his Thor, left on Asgard with these people, these betrayers—

He felt his mother's warm hand on his face, and he thought he might, perhaps, reconsider.

 _"Loki,_ " she whispered, tears running down her face. "Loki, my _son,_ you're _alive_..."

Loki gave her a weak, aching smile. She embraced him with a sob, stroking his hair and kissing his face. He let his mother handle him, stroking his cheek gently and toying with his hair, taking his hand and holding him close. Her touch was still gentle. She had seen what he was and she still wished to be gentle with him...

"Yes, mother," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "All is well. Thor is alive..."

"As are _you!_ " Frigga said, tears in her eyes. "My son, you are alive, my Loki...I feared for your safety, though Odin had promised you would live. I just...feared for you. I couldn't be with you, or protect you. I was frightened..."

"I'm here," Loki promised, his voice weak. "I'm here, I'm here...fear not, mother, I am here...we are safe. We are both safe..."

"Yes," Frigga promised. "I saw him, my son. He is strong, stronger than ever...he is alive, and safe. You saved him, Loki. You saved Thor." She kissed him, taking his hand and squeezing it. "My love, you are a hero."

Loki snorted derisively, but his mother's words reached deep within him regardless, curling around his heart and soothing it. Frigga held him gently for another moment longer before she stroked his hair and smiled, cradling him against her.

"I must prepare a few elixirs for your strength, my son. Loki, please; rest. It shall not take long, and I will be back as soon as I can." Frigga promised, stroking his hair and cupping his cheek. Loki shook his head, fearful and frantic.

"No, no...mother, please...please, I don't want to be alone...mother, mother...please," Loki begged, "I cannot stand it. You are the only other kind soul left to me in all Asgard, mother...don't leave me, not here..."

Frigga's eyes softened and she cupped his cheek, kissing his forehead tenderly.

"Loki, I will not be long. I will simply gather the herbs for the elixirs and poultices, my darling, and mix them in here if you would feel more comfortable with that arrangement. I promise, you will be safe here. You have saved the heir to the throne, my love; no one would wish ill upon you, my dear son, I swear it. Rest. When you wake, I will have returned to you." Frigga promised, stroking his hair and tucking the blankets up around him. 

Loki struggled, but his protests were feeble due to his fatigue, dying out soon enough. Frigga kissed him, soothing him and gentling him as she held him. Loki looked up, feeling something soft against his cheek.

"Mother...are those my furs?" Loki murmured, the realization dawning on him. Frigga chuckled, nodding as she took his hands and kissed them, warming them up in her grasp.

"Yes, love. I thought...well, it was sort of like wearing a lucky charm, my son. I was worried," she confessed, "and it comforted me. They kept me warm and reassured me of your safety...and reminded me of you."

Loki closed his eyes, saying nothing. Frigga took the furs and wrapped them around his shoulders, tucking him in and kissing his forehead.

"I will be back as soon as I can, darling," she promised. "Rest, my little Loki. You will not be alone. Not here; not now that you've come home."

He wanted to protest, to tell her how much had changed, how he wasn't her 'little Loki' any longer, _couldn't_ be, to fuss and fight and complain. But he saw how small and worn she looked, in the dim light of his chambers, and he knew she was being as strong as she possibly could, all for him.

Loki closed his eyes and nodded a silent agreement, wrapping his furs around him and settling in. He heard her sigh with love and relief as she left, shutting the door quietly as she extinguished the candles. 

Loki felt his furs rubbing against his face, warm and soft and cozy, reminding him of days spent snuggled up in his mother's bed, reading a book beside her as she brushed his hair, loving and gentle. The furs smelled like _her_ , like _home_.

Loki let himself rest, for a time.


	16. Father-Son Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin and Loki have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have Exhibit A: How a fangirl reconciles the easy excuse of Odin's mistakes with the shit Loki actually pulled. It is not as hard as you'd think.  
> That said, I tried to keep this fair; Odin is not entirely blameless, but neither is Loki. And as you may have noticed, I casually sort of ignore the Avengers movie regarding anything I do, plotwise, because, uh, no. Coulson lives, for one. For two, I have my issues regarding Loki's character in the Avengers movie, but they're neither here not there. This only deals with what he did in Thor--which still was pretty high up on the dickbag scale, let's be honest.  
> This is a bit of a short chapter, but it's necessary; it focuses only on Loki and Odin, and to add in any superfluous other character actions would take away from the punch. I hope you enjoy this chapter, regardless of length! Another update ASAP to apologize.

Odin stood at the door, and for the first time in a very long while, he was consumed with nervous hesitancy. Beyond that door lay his son, ill and lost and lonely—and utterly consumed in hatred for him. 

Odin had made his mistakes. There was no sense in regretting them. Above all else, he had saved Loki, allowed his son to live, and he did not regret that. It meant this shouldn't be as hard as it was. And yet, here he stood, paralyzed by indecision and guilt.

He had failed Loki. He knew that. He wanted to say he had done all he could have, but he knew full well it wasn't the truth, which, frankly, bothered him more. He had failed his son where it mattered, abandoned Loki when he needed him. These were heinous crimes, and he knew that. At the very least...he could hope his remorse might staunch the bleeding pouring forth from his son's heart, if not heal the wound entirely. 

Odin pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Frigga had told him Loki was in Thor's chambers; he had been a bit confused as to why, but the second he stepped in, he understood. 

He felt the magic; the pieces of their soul that had remained entwined, even after the vigil. Loki slept peacefully, his furs wrapped around his own shoulders again, rather than his mother's; even though Odin saw this, he _felt_ Thor, his other son's soul powerful within Loki's own. He could only hope that the newfound bond might provide both his sons some comfort.

Loki pulsed blue when he slept, shades of sapphire that swirled beneath pale skin. It was not quite a full slip of the glamour; Odin could still see the pale, raven-haired child he had grown to love and cherish sleeping upon the bed, but it was...an interesting effect. Like ink spiraling down into a goblet of water, he supposed. And...not something he had seen Loki do before his return. 

Perhaps he had become more comfortable in his Jotun form, though this Odin doubted. More likely, the magic of his glamour was failing. Perhaps...he could start healing the wounds he had left by fixing the most blatant one.

Odin held his hands over his son's fallen body, murmuring quietly, an old spell he had only spoke once before; to this same son, squalling in agony in the middle of a ruined temple. His hands shook, though whether from age or sorrow, he could not tell. 

Loki awoke as the sapphire hues began to seep from his skin, receding back to the healthy, supple pale skin he had possessed before the fall, before what had to have been months of neglect and pain, months it ached at Odin's heart to think about, to know they had come to pass because of his own sins. 

His son snarled, fear and hatred in equal measure, backing away from him so violently that he fell off the bed. It should have been comedic, but the way Loki looked up at him from his position on the floor, crouched and shaking violently, his teeth still bared in a panicked snarl to ward off his own father, was about as far from amusing as Odin could imagine.

His son _loathed_ him, was terrified of his very presence. Where he had once stolen away into his sons' rooms to check upon them, sometimes finding them sleeping peacefully next to each other, always utterly at ease, his presence was unwelcome in his son's room now, asleep or awake—truth be told, he suspected his presence was unwelcome not just in Loki's room, but his very life.

Still. For the thousands of years he had spent loving this son, he would continue forward. For the sake of the child he had known...he would comfort the man before him.

"Forgive me, Loki," Odin said, "I thought your glamour slipping might cause you distress. I did not think to account for the damage the Casket of Ancient Winters must have done to my magics upon your skin."

"And you didn't stop to consider whether or not I may _prefer_ myself that way, Allfather?" Loki spat, rising to his feet. He trembled; it ached Odin's heart to know that if he pleaded with Loki to rest, he would continue to stand out of spite, taxing his already worn and beleaguered body. 

"No, Loki," Odin said. "Forgive me. I...simply remembered your reaction to your true form revealed...and I worried, perhaps, that it troubled you."

It did, Odin knew; Loki was a liar, the best there was, but he could never lie to his father—at least, not in the state he was in. It bothered him. But it bothered him much, much more to accept the aid of the Allfather.

"Whether or not it does matters not," Loki said, backing away from him as much as possible and clutching his furs close, defensive, "what matters is I want you out of this room."

"Loki," Odin begged, "please, I simply wished...wished to check on you after the vigil. To know that you are all right. I sent you away a week ago to strip yourself down to the scraps of your soul in an attempt to revive your brother, not knowing if you would live or die. Allow me to know you are safe and sound, my son. Please."

Loki flinched at the title, pulling his furs around him. He shook beneath them, as if he could not calm himself or keep warm.

"Well, here you are, then," he said. "I am alive and well, and would be much better off if you would leave me."

Odin was quiet. Loki was biting his lip so hard it bled.

"Let your mother heal that," he said. "I cannot bear to see you in any more pain than you are now."

Loki flung his furs aside, and before Odin could blink, was standing right in front of him, magic having teleported him directly in front of his father. He wanted to plead with Loki not to use his magic in such a vulnerable state, but Loki looked ready to smite him where he stood, and so he was silent.

"Really? You cannot _bear_ to see me in _pain_ , Allfather?" Loki snarled, a sneer curling in his lip, his teeth bared and gleaming. "Where was such compassion _before_ , when I clung to one last shred of hope, that you might _care_ , that you might _love me_? Where were your kind words _then?_ "

"Loki, you had just destroyed an entire race of people," Odin said, his voice tired and worn, "lied to your brother, and killed your own father."

 _"You would've done the same!"_ Loki roared. "You would have killed them all in your prime if you could have, and _you know it_! And do _not_ speak to me of what I did to Thor! _I_ did not _cast him out!_ _I_ did not _leave him for dead_ on some wretched plane of existence! I _continued your work_ , father!" 

Loki bared his teeth and laughed, dark and low and vicious.

" _That's_ why you hate me," he said. "Truly, father, you cannot stand me because _I_ am your true son, not Thor. I, who was never of your blood, am much more like you than Thor. You are as cunning and underhanded as I; just as vicious and as clever. You are just as willing to make the right decision rather than the noble one. Oh, father. Rejecting me will not fix that part of you."

"Loki, enough," Odin said, "you are my son, but not for these reasons, not because of—"

"Not becauseof _what_? Not because of my _cunning_? Not because of my _lies_ , my _trickery_ , my _manipulation?_ These are all part of _your_ repertoire, my king, and we both know it. You cannot bear that your monstrous son is the father's mirror. That the flesh of your flesh is frozen to the core. Admit it. You will _never_ love me. Not now that you know you have made me into _you_." Loki rasped.

Odin was quiet. Loki simply stood in front of him, his eyes haunted and cold.

"I have forgiven you your crimes," Odin said. "All I ask is that you forgive mine."

"It's rather easy for you to forgive my crimes," Loki said, his voice poisonously soft, "seeing as how they were caused by your own."

"It was your choice to do what you did, Loki. Not mine. I did not—" 

"Really? You did not _abandon me_ , alone, confused, more terrified than I had ever been in my entire _life_?" Loki snapped, his hackles raised and his eyes glittering. "It must've been some other old fool passed out on those steps, then. My mistake. I should've sought after you harder."

"Loki—"

 _"Damn you_ , for _once_ in your blasted life, enough with the thrice-damned speeches and _listen to me!"_ Loki roared.

Odin fell silent immediately.

Loki breathed heavily for a second before it seemed to hit him all at once that Odin was listening. Then his words burst forth from him, like a flood free to drown half the nearby town.

"You _left me_ ," he said, "left me there with my entire body so absolutely _cold,_ colder than it had ever been, with nary a word of explanation or defense as to what I was, or what I might _become!_ All I knew in that moment was that I was a _monster_ , some _bargaining chip_ for the sake of the realm that not even my natural father felt inclined for me to rule!  _Thousands_ of years I spent in this house, with you and mother and Thor, and you never spoke a _word_ of the true fate you had for me, to lock me away in some frozen _hell_ , raise me as a king and cast me out into a world I'd never known, and you think that what I did in retaliation isn't justified? You _abandoned_ me, father, abandoned the _last son_ you had _left_ after you casually tossed aside the _first,_ and left me out in the cold with questions only _you_ could answer!"

Loki actually laughed, but there was no humor in it. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"Repeating the sins of fathers past, are we? It's good to see we came full circle there," he remarked. "Regardless, you may as well have killed Laufey yourself. You raised me; you knew what I would do. Or did you not? Did you truly not know me well enough to know I would be lost without you, without Thor? Regardless of the truth, perhaps you don't deserve forgiveness. Either you knew and did nothing, or never knew me as well as you thought you did." 

Loki licked his lips, the blood drying on them; he winced when he touched the open sore, but continued on.

"Yes, I killed them all," he said. "Better to murder them than to rule them, a kingdom I never wanted, a race of people that had cast me out. Better to kill a father, so eager to kill his own son, than allow Laufey to kill you. I had hope, perhaps, that you would return at first. The Odinsleep would end and you would take me and embrace me, apologize; explain to me everything and end all this." Loki snorted, disdainful.

"But you _didn't,_ " he said, "you cast me out once more. Do you remember the words you told me, Allfather, before the abyss rushed up to meet me?"

"Loki," Odin whispered, closing his one good eye, "do not make me—"

"Has your _memory_ rotted as well as your _heart,_ Allfather? _Tell me_!" Loki roared. 

"...No, Loki," Odin said, his tone defeated. "I said no."

Loki nodded, a smile of triumph flickering across his face.

"Yes, Allfather; you said _no_. No, Loki, I don't want you. No, Loki, you are not my son. No, Loki, I cast you out. No, Loki, I am not here to protect you. No, Loki...I am not your father." Loki said, looking at him with contempt. "No, Odin. I see no love in you. Not in a man that would deny me love after taking from me the truth I built my life on."

Odin's shoulders sagged. He had never once felt old, nor worn or defeated, until he faced his son and wondered if there might, in fact, be one battle he could never truly fight and win.

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed. "Perhaps you are too much like myself for me to ever be quite comfortable with the man you have become, Loki. But Thor does not seem to mind much. And though you say it is you who is my trueborn son, heart and soul, not Thor, there is one truth shared between Thor and I; both of us are rather stubborn. And I cannot quite give up on myself, this time; certainly not of the notion I could not learn to love you again. It is hard, knowing how you have changed, and knowing of my hand in it, good or ill. But if a father cannot change with his sons, they shall slip from his fingers. I ask for time, Loki, if not trust. I ask for patience. If you are willing to give it, in time, I hope to give you everything."

"And what is _everything_ to you now, father?" Loki asked. "A blasted hellscape for me to rule? A place in some battered, desolate world that was never my own? Is it whatever you're willing to throw at me to forget I exist, to turn me back into another item in your collection, another relic to look upon when you grow idle?"

"A home," Odin said simply. "Your place here. A family. I cannot build these things again without the materials to do so. Those, I'm afraid, lie only in your grasp, my Loki."

Loki went to wrap his furs around himself again, defensive, until he realized they had been tossed aside. In a last-ditch defensive attempt, he wrapped Thor's blankets around him, crimson and gold falling over his shoulders as he held his head high and observed Odin with a haughty bearing. His eyes betrayed him, though; they were stormy and unsure. It was better than hateful, Odin supposed.

"I must rest," he said. "Mother has decreed it. I have given great strength to the vigil, and there is little I can do but heal until I am able to seek Thor again. I will think on your words. No more."

Odin relaxed visibly, a simple nod the most he could muster at this point.

"Fair enough, my Loki," he agreed. "Rest. If your mother decrees it, heavens forbid I go against your mother."

He crossed the room in two great strides, picking the furs up off the floor. He didn't stop to think about how Loki flinched at his movements, almost fearful. He just stepped forward again, placing the wrap around Loki's shoulders.

"It's rather cold in here," Odin said. "You're weary enough as it is; a chill will not help." 

Loki nodded, mute. His face was smooth, imperceptible. Odin didn't meet his gaze.

"Goodnight, Loki. Rest. And think. You cannot do much else for the time being, after all," Odin agreed, departing from the room without another word.

Loki laid back down silently, letting the softness of the furs and blankets numb his mind. He refused to think about absolutely anything. For right now, ironic as it was, he would much rather be alone.


	17. The Storm Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is very godly and helpful.

The group had done what they could to keep themselves distracted; Darcy was currently teaching the warriors and Sif to play poker, and Erik had spent a large part of the day on the phone, discussing his idea with whichever colleagues he thought might be sympathetic to their plight. Jane watched the others play cards, though she had no interest in doing so herself, simply reading a book and sitting in between Darcy and Sif, absolutely content.

The day waned, however, and they had begun to fear. None of them spoke of their concerns aloud, but they wondered in the backs of their minds if Thor might be too weak to return to Midgard—or worse, might not have survived the vigil at all. 

They banished these thoughts as best as they could, clinging to the remembrance of his strength and power, praying feverently for his safety. Still, as the sun began to sink, weighed down with all that had transpired across the universe over the course of the day, they feared.

The gate began to glow mid-hand, and the warriors all dropped their cards. Darcy looked confused until she caught sight of the glow; then a grin spread across her face and she lifted her hand in greeting. 

The earth around them began to quake with the anticipation of lightning. The sky had begun to glow, stormclouds gathering as if to announce the arrival of their king.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then, at the first gasp of twilight, Mjolnir split the skies and struck the earth, making the ground quiver and roil with the embrace of lightning.

Jane didn't realize she had grabbed both Sif and Darcy's hands until they squeezed back.

Thor came to them then, and Jane outright gasped. This was not the blond, brave man she had met; he had been mortal then, and even as a god, still human where it mattered. 

This was a god-king, the emperor of Asgard, a lion of the sun, real and true. Lightning crackled over his skin, and over his brow a bright glow formed, akin to a crown of stars, glimmering and burning, making his blue eyes shimmer with power. His whole body pulsed with power, and there was a storm brewing beneath his skin.

"My king," Sif cried, jubilant. "Thor, you have returned to us!"

He turned to look at them, and she did not tremble. Jane clung to Sif despite herself, and felt Darcy clinging to her. This was not her territory. She was human, so absolutely, vulnerably _human_...

"Yes," Thor finally spoke, a smile returning to his features. "There is much we must discuss, Sif. But while this power courses within me, there are things I must do, those I must save. I will return to you as soon as I am able, but for now, I am needed elsewhere."

"I understand, my king," Sif said. "Go where you are needed, shieldbrother. We shall be waiting for you here."

Thor cupped her cheek and smiled, nodding an agreement.

"You are so brave, my warrior maid," he said. "Watch over the ladies well. They will have need of you."

Sif nodded as Thor turned to his warriors and grinned.

"And watch over them as well, brothers, for your bravery is unmatched in any realm! I will return soon for all of you, and we will be together then. For now, I am sought elsewhere. Be safe, my shieldbrothers, and stay strong," he said. The warriors nodded, standing just a bit taller.

"Of course, your majesty. Go with the Allfather's grace." Volstagg said. Thor bowed deeply before he raised his hammer, his eyes glowing with power.

A burst of lightning took him and he was gone, leaving them standing in the middle of the desert, shaking in the wake of his power.

They all clung to each other, quiet. Jane was still shaking. Sif put a hand on her shoulder before slowly reaching up to move to her hair, stroking quietly and calmly. She pulled Darcy close as well, holding her steady.

"He's okay," Darcy said, "but holy _shit_ , I'm never going to taser him again, not _ever_."

Sif chuckled and stroked Darcy's hair, grasping her hand as well. Jane trembled against her chest, still not speaking.

"It is all right to be frightened," she murmured. "I myself...well. I have not seen our god-king like that in a very long time. It...it was a bit off-putting."

"I'll say," Jane finally said. "I just...don't know what to do. I mean, he was... _godly_."

"Well, yes," Sif said, amused. "Fear not, little one. I have realized long ago that for all his godly trappings, Thor's heart beats human and true. He would never harm any of us. He is mighty, but he is worthy as well, and that might will never turn on him. All will be well. I swear to you both."

"I trust you," Jane replied, and Sif beamed. Jane figured it was worth it just to see her smile. Even if she was still a little apprehensive about what was going to happen next.

...

Thor could feel them. That said, the god could feel literally everything transpiring around him right now. A bird twittered beside him, curious. Thor cupped it in his hand, delicate and careful, before releasing it into the woods, allowing it the space to run. It was pleasant, almost, in a strange way, to know the whole universe and what was being created within it. He wondered if this was how his father felt; aware of absolutely everything. He had never felt more alive...nor burdened by joy and grief. It was a curious mixture, but one he welcomed. It was a lesson of understanding, and one he would take to heart.

Despite this, there was still work that had to be done. There were people he needed to find, to watch over and tend to...but where?

Thor stilled, focusing only on the forest. He could feel nature, alive and fresh and growing all around him. He could hear the river. And...

His eyes snapped open and Mjolnir was in his hand in an instant. 

Loki's magic. He could feel _Loki's magic._

The feel of it was so beautiful, so warm and achingly good, that Thor couldn't help but grin like a helpless fool, going towards the feeling of his brother's magic, the lover he so dearly missed. Their week entwined had done more for the two of them than any of Loki's precious words ever could have. There were no secrets to be had from each other, not anymore, and thank the heavens for that.

Thor stopped in a clearing, quiet and confused. The storm beneath his skin rumbled in reply as Thor shook his head, hefting his hammer and gripping the handle tight. There was...death here. His shieldbrothers?

The enchantment worked for humans, but Thor was far beyond humanity now, and so when he looked for his shieldbrothers, he found them easily. Tony, Steve, and Bruce slept peacefully in the stasis caskets, keeping them together. Thor's heart broke to see them reduced to such a terrible rest. The storm beneath him crackled and roared in agreement.   
He stepped forward, a few tears dripping from his face, shining like crystal upon his storm-shaded skin. His magic told him whom he could not save. Not with the lightning, not with the storm. There was only one among them that would be revived by such a measure; only a single human who could accept the lightning into his body, as Thor had, and be revived. 

Thor was grateful he could, at least, in fact save one of his shieldbrothers. But he knew that his shieldbrother might not in fact be too thrilled about this fact.

Thor stroked Steve's casket and bit his lip, shaking his head in a futile attempt at staving off grief. His hand shook as he held it against the cool glass.

"My brother, forgive me," he said. "I swear to you, I shall take good care of him. He will not want for a thing until you return to him. Except, of course, your return."   
Thor turned to Bruce and grasped his casket as well, bowing his head and shuddering with sorrow. The storm beneath his skin trembled and roiled as he pressed his hand against the glass.

"Forgive me as well, brother," Thor said. "I will return for you when I return for our Captain. The lady Virginia will not forgive me if I don't." 

There was one he could save. That was what he told himself as he lifted Tony's casket and set it down upon the forest floor as gently as he could. There was at least one of his shieldbrothers that he could save. Just one, but...one life was the whole world. He understood this now; the whole world outside, alive around him, and Loki's soul warm within him gave him that much.

Thor took Mjolnir in hand and swung it down, gentle, aiming only to smash the casket. It worked; Tony was freed from the glass confines, but still so agonizingly cold. Thor frowned, deep in thought, unsure of how best to proceed.

He lifted his hammer, focusing, and as the storm roared and raged beneath his skin, he called down the lightning. It rocketed from the tumultuous skies in full force, raining down on him, embracing his new, stormborn body like a lover, racing over his crown of stars, and sinking into his skin. It asked its lord what it might do to serve him, so eager to please.

"Revive him," Thor said, his voice rough and throaty, but regal all the same. "The man of iron has a strange and curious heart. Please, I beg of thee, my stormborn brother, _revive him..."_

The lightning crackled and burned, humming over his skin for an instant longer, but it did as it was told. The storm raced down to Tony's skin, vibrating with life and energy. It started to spark at his toes, trailing up through his veins, every artery and bone lit alive with lightning and the turbulent clouds of the storm, slowly moving up to his arms, through his chest, up through his head, before finally all entwining right over his heart.

Thor watched with bated breath as the lightning came to a boiling point at the apex of Tony's body, burning bright beneath the reactor. For a few minutes, the glow of the reactor proved dulled, but the storm persisted, and in the end, broke through. It burst, and the glory of lightning reworked him, pouring through him, and slowly but surely, the reactor began to glow. 

After a few minutes more, in which Tony's body twitched and jerked every so often, gears in the nervous system resetting themslves and getting back to work, his eyelids fluttered and, slow and sweet, as if awaking from a hundred years of sleep, Tony Stark opened his eyes and sat up, looking about, curious.

"Thor?" He murmured. "Hey, buddy, that you?"

Thor's eyes were filled with tears of joy as he nodded, extending his hand to Tony and allowing his shieldbrother to grasp it, pulling him up and embracing him.

"Aye, Anthony," Thor said, his voice warm. "It is Thor Odinson who has come to wake you."

"Fuckin' great, tell Pep to put on the coffee, I could use a cup," Tony paused, looking around and frowning. "Wait, this isn't home. Thor, where _are_ we?"

"As far as I know, we are near where we had resided after absconding from S.H.I.E.L.D., but I cannot say. My brother put you here to wait for me, until I had finished vigil," Thor said, his voice grave. Tony looked befuddled.

"Wait, we're friends with Loki now? What the hell is going on, Thor? _What_ vigil? What _happened?"_ He demanded. Thor sighed.

"You died," he said. "As did all the others, save the Son of Coul and Pepper. Only you and I have been revived, presently; through the Allfather's great magic, I have been resurrected, and did the same to you in kind." 

His words hit Tony in full force after a minute or so; Tony started, turning around and seeing the caskets before him. He shook his head, coming closer. Thor made to grab him and pull him away, for his own sake, but Tony shrugged him off.

"Bruce?" He whispered, taking in the sight of his friend's casket. "Aw, c'mon buddy, we talked about this. There's no way for you to fix the Hulk, and sleeping around in some weird tube won't help...Bruce? C'mon, Bruce. Get up...?"

The body gave no reply. Tony shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, his whole body beginning to shake, shudders passing through his body and tears making his eyes glimmer. Thor stood back and let his shieldbrother do what was needed. He had to convince himself of the others' fates, first. 

He only wished that, perhaps, this meeting need not be so painful. But, as he watched Tony approach the casket, he knew there was simply no other way out of this than suffering, grief, and loss. As, perhaps, the death of a lover should be.

"Steve?" Tony rasped, caressing the pale, peaceful face of his lover from beneath the glass. "Steve, baby, wake up. Thor's here. C'mon, Steve. Please get up. I did it...I got up...you're just being lazy. Slacking on the j-job, old man..."

Tony leaned his head against Steve's casket and began to shake, closing his eyes and grasping at a hand that was no longer there to hold. "C'mon, Steve...Steve, get up...don't...don't do this to me..."

Steve did not reply, obviously, still lost to the warm folds within the reaper's cloak. Tony moaned in agony, clinging to his lover's casket before looking back at Thor with pleading, lost eyes.

"Fix him, big guy?" Tony begged. "Please fix him. Please. Don't make me live without him. I waited so long for him. Don't...don't do this to me, Thor. You're my friend. Fix Steve, fix Bruce, please god, don't make me live without Steve..."

"Shieldbrother, I am sorry," Thor said, his voice grave, "but the storm has spoken to me, and it could only fix you. Your curious heart saved you. You are a man of iron and energy, raw and powerful. The lightning called to the lightning, and it sparked the reactor within you anew. There is no such lightning in either your lover or your brother's body. Forgive me, Anthony, but if I tried to recall them with the lightning, I would more likely than not kill them for good in the attempt."

Tony looked up at him, uncomprehending for just a brief, peaceful second. Then his genius mind attacked with a vengeance, and he understood everything, all of it crashing down on him like a powerful wave, dragging him under and threatening to drown him in the throes of grief.

"No, no no no, not Steve, _not Steve_ , Thor, don't make me live without my Steve, Thor please, I _love_ him, _no_ —"

Thor felt terribly guilty, but he knew there was no way to resolve the problem otherwise. Tony was too lost to grief to listen to reason, and he knew there were other places both of them had to be. 

He held Tony close, wrapping a strong, broad arm around him as he hefted his hammer to the sky, calling for the lightning. Tony struggled fiercely, arms reaching out to grasp at Steve, still lost beyond the veil, too far away to take his hand. 

As the lightning took them both, the only thing to be heard was an agonizing scream, Steve's name splitting the heavens as Tony was separated from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note; this Tony is very, very different from AatA!Tony. I'll be honest; that was my first crack at Tony, and it didn't go as well as I'd liked. I had a hundred billion Tony feels and nowhere to put them. At this point, I've purged myself of the incessant desire to psychologically rip apart Tony's mental issues and story of woe, which means I can blend the snark and the sass with the suffering much, much better. I genuinely like how he's evolved as I've written him, and my ability to balance his aspects has improved muchly. I hope you like it, too!  
> Oh, also, let's be honest; this is not anywhere near sound science. Let's be honest; comic books. And magic.


	18. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony greets a few old friends and delivers some bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the wheels of rebirth start to cycle onward. Mutual Tony and Darcy snark is literally my favorite thing.  
> Anyways, sudden shift of point of view in the next few chapters; not the next one, but soon after. Just so you know!

_"It wasn't worth it!"_ Tony screamed, agonized, as he pounded at Thor's chest, futile blows as the god held him close. "Please, it wasn't worth it! Not without Steve! Thor, _I need him_! Please, Thor, _please_..."

"I know, Anthony. We all knew what a healing influence Steven was on your heart. Please understand, I would not have wanted it this way; if I could have revived you all, I would. I'm afraid, however, that there was nothing to be done," Thor hung his head and sighed.

"Anthony, I know this is not what you want to hear, but consider this. I know you need Steven. But right now, we need _you_. You might be the only hope we have of resurrecting both him and Bruce. At the very least, hold on for that; there might be a way you yourself are the one responsible for Steve's rebirth. Stay with us, Tony. Please," Thor said, keeping his voice gentle. He knew his shieldbrother had suffered a grievous loss; he did not intend to make it worse. 

After a few minutes, Tony stopped shaking in Thor's arms. He hugged him tight, burying his face into his neck.

"Did...did you say Pepper and Phil were alive?" He asked. Thor nodded, a small smile on his face as he alighted them both down onto the dusty desert grounds. Tony looked around at the bare landscape, curious, as Thor let him down to stand on his own.

"Aye, Anthony. Pepper and the Son of Coul live. I will arrange a call with them, but there are others who understand technology better than I. We will meet them shortly, and it is them you ought to speak to about that." Thor sighed, weary. "It has been a very long week, I imagine."

"Really? Didn't notice," Tony shrugged, shaking his head. "We'll get through it, Thor. For his sake."

"Yes, Anthony," Thor said, his voice quiet. "It will be worth it soon enough. You'll see."

Tony flinched at that, but he didn't protest. The two of them walked for a time, until finally, Tony looked up at took note of Thor's stormborn skin, thunderclouds swiring beneath it, like the sea beneath a glass-bottom boat. The crown of stars still twinkled on his brow, and his whole body still crackled and pulsed with lightning.

"So, uh, did Tyra like the look?" Tony teased. Thor tilted his head. 

"I do not understand," he said. "Who is this Tyra?" 

Tony patted his shoulder, trying not to laugh. It would only ruin the fun of the joke. Thor's face was absolutely priceless.

"Never you mind, big guy," he said. "Though, seriously, the new, very literal interpretation of 'god of thunder' is very fetch. Modeling the new look for a reason?"

"It is the power gifted to me by the vigil," Thor said, "perhaps as a way for me to empathise with my brother, who has...similar problems with his appearance." He frowned. "Unlike my fair Loki, though, I do not know how to make my glamour apparent...

"What, you mean turn this thing off? Well, uh...focus. Just think of you not being all...storm-god-y, Starbrow the Kind-of-Ridiculous. I don't know, I've never understood magic," Tony muttered. Thor chuckled.

"And nor I your technology, so we shall call it even. Regardless, perhaps that could work..." Thor closed his eyes and breathed in once, exhaling slowly. As he exhaled, the storm calmed, the stars dimmed, and the lightning seeped back into his body. Tony was dealing with normal Thor, the great Redcape the Just-a-Bit-Silly. He could work with that.

"I still feel it beneath my skin," Thor said, "but truth be told, I rather liked the look. I am not so eager to forsake the magic. I feel...well, as if it is a mark of Loki's soul within me."

Tony raised an eyebrow, keeping the multitudes of sharp remarks that immediately sprung to mind to himself. Thor's one sore spot was Loki, as he had learned the hard way.

"So...you two...like, did it holy style?" He asked. Thor chuckled.

"In a sense," he agreed. "Our souls became bound to one another for the week I spent on Asgard; I took my strength from him, revitalizing my own soul with the power of his own, the magic fixing my body and giving me life anew. We were bared entirely to one another for those seven days, and parts of his soul still remain within me, as does some of my soul in his." 

It took all of Tony's admittedly not-very-restrained self restraint not to giggle hysterically. He had been through a lot in the past few weeks; he could allow himself an immature giggle here and there. Just...not within Thor's earshot.

"Well, uh...that's great, big guy. Glad you two...made out. Or up. Or whatever." Tony told him. "So, what's Loki up to now?" 

"Recuperating," Thor said, his eyes growing stormy with worry and fear. "The vigil revitalized me and sapped him of much of his strength. I am sending him all the love I can muster, but all I am receiving from his soul is sorrow and pain...and I fear." He shook his head. "My mother is tending to him. I must have hope. But, I confess...I fear, Anthony, that I have taken something vital from my brother. That I have destroyed him beyond repair."

Tony shrugged, patting his shoulder. Despite the casual gesture, Thor could feel Tony's love and concern in the weight of his touch. 

"Hey, look," Tony said, "you know something, Thor? I'm pretty sure if he thought you were worth the vigil, you're definitely worth a bit of sacrifice in his eyes. Even if he's never the same, he's...well, he's with you now, right? So...that matters. And that might help."

Thor beamed, embracing Tony. The engineer did his level best not to wince with pain. Thor's embrace was strong, but it shook, and he knew what he must be feeling right now. At the very least, Tony could now sense overwhelming relief entwined with the pain.

"Thank you, shieldbrother. Truly, I believe I needed those kind words," Thor said, gently leading him forward. "Now, shall we go speak with my friends?"

Tony caught sight of a few people sitting near a camper van, playing poker and, from the smell of it, drinking beer. He grinned, relieved.

"Yeah," he said, walking beside Thor as they approached the group, "I could get behind that."

...

Jane looked up only to see Thor approaching again, the god returned to his normal formand a man with him this time, a man she knew from billions of magazines and science review journals.

"Holy shit, it's that dude who banged all the 2009 Playboy centerfold girls!" Darcy said, waving. "Hey, gimme some tips, man. I don't have that kinda stamina."

"Darcy, for god's sake, that's _Tony Stark_!" Jane snapped. "The genius who completely revolutionized the way we see engineering and modern energy? _That_ guy?"

"Both things are true, ladies, and it's a pleasure," Tony said, clearly amused. "Tony Stark, though you knew that. You're..."

"Jane Foster, sir," Jane said, giving him a warm smile. "It's so good to meet you. Thor's spoken so highly of you."

"Darcy Lewis, teaching gods to play poker, I'm a bit busy," the other girl said. "Want a beer?"

"Oh, I like you both," Tony said, accepting the beer and taking a long, hard slug. "Jesus, I'm definitely allowed a beer. One guilt-free drink after dying, I say." He wiped his mouth and huffed. "Anyways...likewise, Ms. Foster. Thor's told me you're a scientist. That's good, I can use that. Do you happen to still pal around with a guy called Erik Selvig?"

"Hello, Tony," Erik said, leaving the camper van with a sheaf of notes. "It's good to see you. You too, Thor. I'm grateful we gained both of you back; we'll need the forces."

"So, yes," Tony said, amused. "What do you got for me, doc?"

He set down the enormous pile of notes in front of Tony and adjusted his glasses. "These are all on gamma radiation, and the formula Bruce was using when the Hulk assimilated control of his body. We're going to try to kickstart his heart and bring out the Hulk in him with one, but we'll need someone who can build a lab."

"Then you came to the right man," Tony said with a grin. "All right, the Engineer Formerly Known as a Dead Guy needs to get this set up as soon as possible. The stasis tubes will hold, but not forever..." He frowned. "Erik, speaking of; do you think...think we could do the same with the super-soldier serum?"

"We'd need access to Vita-Rays as well, but I don't see why not," Erik said. "It's not a guarantee, but...we can certainly try." He frowned. "The problem is, I don't know anyone who has a copy of the notes Erskine made."

"I'll look through Howard's old files on JARVIS as soon as I can," Tony said. "For now, one thing at a time; we need this lab built pronto."

"Yes," Erik agreed, "but I think there's someone you ought to speak to first."

Tony looked utterly befuddled. Then Erik handed him a phone and he understood. 

Swallowing hard, he took it in trembling hands and dialed Pepper's number. 

It took a minute of ringing for anyone to pick up. When it did, the familiar dry, British, _"JARVIS speaking; who is calling_?" was enough to make tears leap to Tony's eyes once more.

"Hey, buddy," he said, "daddy's home."

The burst of static that enamated from the phone made them all jump, Tony still clutching the phone with shaking hands. At that point, he wouldn't have let go for anything.

" _Anthony? Anthony, my Anthony? My creator.._.f-father _, I.._." JARVIS whirred, sharp and harsh. _"Please, let it be you. Every circuit in my network says it is so, but I...I fear I cannot trust myself these days."_

"Wow, thanks, bud, I love you too," Tony said, amused. "Good to know my tech skills aren't up to par these days." He smiled, broad and genuine. "Of course it's me, JARVIS. Thor whacked me with his magic hammer and now I'm back. Fun times, magic."

 _"I...I see, sir. Please, might I...if you could hold the phone up, I can see you,_ " JARVIS pleaded. Tony did as asked, still grinning when he did hold the camera up, letting JARVIS see him. Another strangled staticky burst enamated from the phone when he did.

 _"It's you, Anthony. Really and truly you. I...I don't know what to say..._ " JARVIS whirred. _"Please, one moment. I must summon Ms. Potts and our agent."_

"Take your time, buddy," Tony replied, his voice gentle. "It's good to see you again too."

JARVIS whirred once more before Tony was left with a ringtone in his ear again; not that he minded much. On the other end of that line, soon enough, would be Pepper, safe and sound. 

...

Pepper sighed and massaged her temples. Work had been hell, yet again; the same pitying faces, the overwhelming desire to take War Machine from Rhodey and get some revenge, no matter how futile it might be, and the general feeling of failure. She was bone-tired, and Thor...well, Thor hadn't shown up yet. God only knew what would happen now.

Phil took her hand and helped her inside, understanding and attentive. She sighed in relief as she opened the door, embracing Butterfingers, Dummy and You, who had come to greet them like overjoyed dogs. She let their cool metal comfort her like warm fur might have, in another, more normal life, and was moving to sit down on the couch when the phone rang.

She would have ignored it but for Dummy going and picking it up, dropping it in her hand. She kicked off her heels as she answered the phone, a mechanical gesture at best as she picked it up.

 _"So, they left me stranded here without a coffee machine, and I could really use a plucky assistant right now to make everything better. How's a trip to the middle of nowhere sound, babe?"_

In response, Pepper screamed, bursting into tears and falling onto the couch, shaking as she was overcome with emotion.

 _"Okay, okay, you can stay in New York. No need to whip out the tear gun on me, Pepper,"_ Tony told her, his voice warm and amused and so full of love. 

_"PHIL!"_ She screamed. "Phil, he's _alive_ , Tony's _alive,_ Tony, _Tony_ —"

Coulson took the phone from her for a second, tilting his head as he listened, his expression a curious mix of hopeful and disbelieving. 

" _Hey, Agent,"_ Tony said, his voice cheerful, " _been taking care of the terror twins for me? God knows how they must feel right now, still having to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. after all_ _this._.."

"W-what? Tony, I don't..." Phil trailed off as Tony interjected.

 _"Seriously, though, I've missed you both so damn much. It's good to see you—okay,_ hear you _, but y'know. Thor's fine too; he came back and kickstarted my heart, basically. I hate magic, but I'll forgive him this one."_ Tony laughed. _"Do me a favor, put Pep on the phone?"_

Coulson handed it to Pepper, wordless. Pepper took it, tears still in her eyes as she grasped it close, her face turning mottled red and her eyes bright with emotion.

 _"Hey, Pep. I'm sorry. We couldn't get Bruce and Steve back...but we have an idea to revive them both. It'll take a bit of time, but you know me; give me a week and a paperclip and you'll have a death ray,"_ Tony said, amused. Pepper blinked, confused.

"Do you have any ideas for Clint or Natasha?" She asked, concerned. Tony paused, clearly befuddled.

 _"Uh...aren't they with you? I thought they were fine_!" Tony asked. " _Shit, did something go wrong?_ "

Pepper handed the phone over to Coulson, wordless. He took it, his hands shaking, his eyes bright. He did not speak for a moment.

"They're dead, Tony," he finally said. "They died after...after the Captain. They just...were just gone, and I didn't...didn't know what to do, oh god..."

Tony was quiet for a few minutes on the other end of the line. Phil grasped it, hands shaking. Tony finally sighed, his voice worn and weary.

 _"Phil, the only two caskets aside from mine that were there were...well, Steve's and Bruce's. If they're not with you...I don't know where they are, Phil. I'm sorry,_ " he murmured.  
Phil nodded, his eyes blank. 

After a moment, he replied, very softly, "Thank you regardless, Tony. It's...it's so good to have you back."

He closed his eyes and bit back a shudder. "Would you like to speak with Pepper?"

 _"Yeah, Phil. You stay with us, okay? I'm sure they're fine. Loki must not have grabbed them; they put their caskets somewhere else or something. Don't worry. They're your people. There's no way we lost them,_ " Tony said, his voice warm.

Coulson had about enough emotional fortitude to hand Pepper the phone before he left, going upstairs and allowing himself peace. Pepper did not speak of it, and she knew even then that she never would, even after he came back. Whatever went on in that room...to be frank, she didn't really want to know. It was too private, too vulnerable.

" _Take care of him, Pep. He'll need it, even if he'll never, ever ask for it,"_ Tony said _. "You know him, he's stubborn. And he'll break too deep down for anyone to notice if you're not careful."_

"I know, Tony," Pepper agreed, her voice quiet and gentle. "Thank you. I'll keep him safe, I swear." She inhaled, slow and comforting, and exhaled just as slowly before adding, "There's a few other people who would like to speak to you, Tony."

 _"Uh...sure, put 'em on. I can't stay much longer, and we gotta talk important stuff, but...y'know. Good to have the gang back,_ " Tony said. Pepper nodded, holding the phone up and smiling as Butterfingers, Dummy and You looked at it.

"Boys," she said, "daddy's home."

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You all beeped in delight, waving frantically at the phone, humming and whirring as they circled about and whirred with glee. Tony gawked, shocked; she could hear a sharp intake of breath before he laughed, slow and pleased.

 _"Hey, wine rack. Good to see you, You. Oh, and you too, Butterfingers,"_ Tony said, his tone loving and warm. _"How do you feel about coming to stay with daddy for a bit?"_

They all beeped, delighted. Pepper's heart ached at the thought; while she knew it was inevitable, the truth was that she had prized the robots' presence in her life, a physical, real reminder of Tony. Still...knowing he was alive, and knowing he needed the bots...she knew what she had to do. She grit her teeth and smiled as she put the phone against her ear.

"So...I can get a Stark Industries plane out in Puente Antiguo by tomorrow, if you need the supplies. Give me a list of what you need; I'll get whatever I can from our labs without S.H.I.E.L.D. noticing. And I'll ship the boys and one of your suits over, too," she promised. 

_"Oh, you mean this place_ isn't _buttfuck nowheresville? It has a name? Oh boy. I'll get right on caring about that. Anyways, I'll send a list over JARVIS by the end of the night, I promise. I need to consult Selvig on a few things we'll need. It's like a little nerdy sleepover here, you'd love it. Or hate it, I can't ever tell with you,"_ Tony chuckled, a soft laugh that warmed Pepper's heart with its familiarity. _"I love you, Pep. Don't worry. We'll get the rest of the boys safe and sound soon enough. Clint and Natasha, too, as soon as it can be arranged. Wherever they are..."_

Pepper nodded, her hands shaking as she rubbed at her eyes, trying and failing to stave off tears.

"Thank you, Tony. I love you too...love you so much. I'm just...so glad you're safe, you have no idea how much it hurts to stay here, I just—I just"

 _"Ssh, Pep. You're the strongest woman I know. I can't function without you, and neither can Phil, at this point. Be strong for him at least, okay baby? You're a brave woman, we both know it. Just stay with us. Keep going. Soon as anything comes up, we'll find you. And as soon as we're ready to take on S.H.I.E.L.D., we'll come back for you, Pep."_ Tony promised. Pepper nodded, tears in her eyes.

 _"I'll send you the list over JARVIS tonight,"_ Tony told her. _"Don't worry. I'll keep in touch as best as I can. If we talk over JARVIS, S.H.I.E.L.D. can't touch us. And even if we don't talk much for awhile, don't forget how much I love you and Phil both. Take care of him. And take care of yourself, Pep; we both know you forget to do that way too often."_  
Pepper closed her eyes and nodded, smiling and clutching the phone. 

"I will, Tony," she promised, tears still in her eyes. "I will, I will...I love you so much. I'll see you soon, Tony. And don't worry—we'll keep it together. And I'll get you everything you need. For the team's sake."

 _"Good,"_ Tony said, his voice warm. _"You're the best assistant I could've ever hired, and the best friend I'll ever have. Love you, Pep. Goodbye."_

He hung up before she could beg him to stay forever, which was better for the both of them, when Pepper thought abut it. She sighed, gripping the phone and closing her eyes.

 _"I have deleted this conversation from the security tapes, Ms. Potts. I thought it prurient. A glitched tape draws less suspicion than, well...well, this,"_ JARVIS said _. "Shall I begin making arrangements for the plane?"_

"Sure, JARV. Thanks. I'm...just going to go make Phil some cocoa. Pretty sure he's going to need it," Pepper murmured. JARVIS whirred.

 _"Make some for yourself as well, Ms. Potts. I am sure you deserve it,"_ JARVIS said, his voice warm and gentle. Pepper nodded, sighing heavily as she went into the kitchen to brew some warm milk.


	19. Fixing a Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper gets a present. Phil reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if I told you anything, it would be spoilers, so I'll just say this; I always write happy endings.  
> Also, Pepper in the armor is the greatest thing ever. I am sorry but I will never really apologize for Pepper Potts as a badass. She can be both the feminine kind of tough, where she keeps things together by being a nurturing, empathetic woman, and also by being a straight-up badass. I constantly thank god for Pepper Potts is what I'm saying. (If you catch that reference we should be friends.)  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter!~

Coulson did not speak. There was nothing to say, not now. What could he tell himself? Who else was around to listen to his begging, his pleading, his awful grieving cries for his lovers to be returned to him? In the darkness of the room, he was alone, soft sobs his quiet serenade as he thought of them, called to them with every cry, begged for their return with every tear. Even the great Agent Coulson had his limits, and their loss was it.

He wondered how frightened they had been; how much it had hurt to die. He wished he had been there to soothe them, to hold them close and stroke their hair and ease their passing, if nothing else. Their deaths had come in the middle of the night, so dark that none of them could see. Pepper held Bruce so tight in those days Coulson wondered how he didn't break. Thor had kept watch like normal, but he hadn't seen Clint and Natasha leave. He just heard the whir of helicopter blades, and called for Phil.

He had run outside, gun in hand, half-dressed and half-mad, ready to defend his darlings, but S.H.I.E.L.D. was already gone, and they had taken Clint and Natasha with them.

Coulson felt no blood, no signs of their suffering, but as he wandered around the forest, his bare feet dug into the loamy soil and told him all he needed to know. They were gone, gone forever; no tracks, no blood, no weapons...they had simply fled into the night like startled birds, only to be shot down and taken from him, their wings broken. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had snatched them away. It was only a matter of how, but truth be told, the how didn't matter to Coulson; the reality was that his lovers were dead, and he was alone.

He walked back to their cabin, his feet making no sound on the forest floor. He was numb, uncomprehending, unfeeling. He did not think. He barely breathed, shallow, soft breaths, quiet as the forest around him. He did not so much as cry; not a single tear had slipped down his cheeks yet.

He opened the door of their cabin and greeted his friends with a smile. They all looked at him in horror and grief; he wondered, vaguely, how unconvincing his smile was to make all of them do _that._

Phil didn't say anything until he had wiped his feet clean, washed his hands, put his gun away, and then climbed back into bed. Before anyone could tell him, he had settled in on Natasha's side. They didn't have to say it after that; he felt her, the softness of her hair, the warmth of her pale, smooth skin. He felt the weight her scars carried and his mind echoed back to him the way she cried out when he kissed them. He could smell her, spicy and soft and so very beautiful, he could almost hear her soft, timid laugh, rusty with its lack of use, and almost feel the way she cupped his hand, squeezing it close, as if it might afford her protection.

Coulson rolled over, shaking so hard his vision had begun to blur, only to land on Clint's side of the bed; he was hit by the smell of warm leather, baked in the sun, kissed by the wind as his little hawk perched up high enough to contest the stars. He could feel the roughness of his skin, a curious kind of rough, like a cat's tongue, only soft when he held them in his arms, kissing them both and teasing them until they giggled, calling his name, whispering of their love as he tumbled them both into bed, holding them close. He could hear Clint's soft, sweet laugh, surprisingly gentle, and knew it for what it was; a rare and precious thing that needed protection. He had promised them both protection...he had held both their hands and promised them safety, warm and tucked away in their bed...and now...and _now_...

Coulson howled with grief, wailing and screaming in agony as he got up sharply, a shuddering, agonized violence to his every step as he tore at his clothing, a widow in his finest hour of mourning, buttons scattering and falling on the floor like gunshots as he stormed outside and screamed their names at the stars, like one might take pity on him and bring them back, clothed in moonlight and safe, safe and _alive_ —

Coulson dropped to his knees and wept, lonely earth reaching up to receive him, the whole forest rustling in the wind, trees bowing to accept his grief. Only the stones remained  still, for nothing could make a stone weep. Not even this. 

Coulson looked in front of him to see two of them lying before him, as if attending to his grief; delicate little rocks, no bigger than his fist. One was the color of a tiger; amber and rough-hewn with shots of black throughout the entire thing. It was sharp and jagged, but when Coulson picked it up and cupped it, he felt no pain.

The next rock was smooth, a black stone with thin red cracks running through it like veins, glimmering dully in the moonlight when Coulson held it up. He gripped it tight, and while he felt its strength, the heavy firmness to it, the rock was light as a feather in his grasp.

He got up abruptly, going for another walk, making his way across soft, rich earth and over pine needles, leaves, and the foliage of the forest. It was all quiet; not even the birds twittered, as if the loss had left them numb as well.

Coulson went to where they kept the graves. They had no bodies, but they had enough grief to last them lifetimes, and that weighed down the earth around the gravesites better than any enormous gravestone or bulky casket could have.

He took out his knife and chipped away at the rocks for a bit, until he had a clumsily cut 'Clint' and 'Natasha' etched into both rocks. It wasn't perfect, but it was all for them, and he supposed that mattered more.

Coulson laid them down in front of the Captain's grave, his hands shaking with all the grief he was doing his best to stifle. He looked down at Steve's smooth, pure white stone marker, and smiled, tears shining in his eyes.

"Hey, Cap," he murmured. "If it's, uh, if it's...not too much trouble...could you take care of them for me?" He gave the stone a weak, unsteady smile. "I...I tried. But I'm not you. I'm n-no hero. M-maybe you'll do better. Maybe...maybe it'll even matter."

He closed his eyes and began to sob, digging his fingers into the soil and groaning with agony, shaking his head and trying to stop crying, knowing full well this time he couldn't, not until all his tears had left him hollowed out with grief.

"C-captain, please protect them," Coulson begged. "Captain, please...god, someone...just keep them safe. I c-can't anymore. I wanted to, more than anything...but I'm not s-strong enough. So...wherever you are...please. Watch over them." Coulson managed a weak and weary smile.

"It won't be for long, I promise," he said. "I should expect I'll be there soon. I'll apologize then, for everything. For now...I'm sorry I failed you, my darlings. So very sorry."

He got up after that, shaking...shaking, someone was shaking him awake...

"Phil? _Phil!"_

He stirred, blinking and tilting his head, looking up in the dim light to see Pepper standing over him. He sighed, shaking his head and turning away. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him back over, sitting beside him.

"Phil, I get it. Believe me, I do. I know it...it's terrible, really. It must be so awful for you, and I can't tell you anything else but that I'm so sure they're okay. Clint and Natasha were S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents; if they preserved the others, they preserved them, too. They're probably somewhere else is all; they're not full of a super-secret formula or a giant green collossus, or a god, so they weren't high up on the experimentation list. It's okay, Phil. Come here. Come here..." Pepper soothed him, pulling him into a hug.

"Stay with me, okay?" She asked, her voice warm and loving. "Stay with me. I love you, I do. You're a wonderful friend, a wonderful partner...don't let go, Phil. If you let go, you'll fall and you'll break. Don't let go of me. Don't ever let go."

Phil buried his face into her neck and began to sob, shaking and groaning in agony. Pepper stroked his hair, playing with it gently as she moved her hands down every so often to rub his back. Phil let the grief flow out again, as it had the night they died, until the roaring flood would leave him drier and emptier than a desert.

Pepper leaned down and tilted his head up, giving him a kiss. It was soft, gentle and chaste; a simple closelipped kiss to remind him she was here, that she hadn't forgotten he needed her, just like they all needed him. Just like he needed Clint and Natasha, in all truth. It was only now, looking into his eyes, full of agony and grief, and the broken, hunched bearing of his body, that she realized just _how_ much he needed them; he had fixed them, that was true, but they had flowed into all the important parts of him, like a river flowing over pebbles, going through them and covering them in a loving, easy embrace. They had taken all that love with them, and even a stone could weep at that kind of loss.

Coulson didn't return the kiss, and she loved him for that; it hadn't been anything but a gentle reminder of her presence and her love for him, and if it had escalated...they both knew they would have regretted it in the end. Even considering how desperately they ached right now, the both of them knew not to soothe the hurt with that kind of mending. It would come later, in other beds with other people.

For now though, there was hot cocoa and a nice hot shower. Pepper gave Coulson a look, pulling him to his feet and pushing him towards the door. When he gave her a look, she rolled her eyes and pointed to the shower.

"You know you always feel better after you get clean, Phil," she said. "I'll turn on the television and we'll watch a dumb sitcom, and we'll get some work done while we relax. Just take a shower."

Phil still hesitated. Pepper huffed, going back to the bed and picking up one of the mugs off the tray she had brought in, taking a sip almost spitefully, as if taunting him.

"Or no cocoa," she promised, and Phil rolled his eyes but was in the bathroom in seconds, the door clicking shut behind him. Pepper chuckled, getting dressed for bed as she took out her phone. Dummy and You slept downstairs, which she felt guilty about, but at least they were safe; JARVIS couldn't erase the tapes too often, or it would end up looking more suspicious than outright rebellious talk would have been; in fact, she wondered vaguely if that was what S.H.I.E.L.D. even expected to hear, considering what they had put both of them through.

Well, then; she had more than rebellious talk. She had an army. She had a god and she had Tony, and soon enough they would have Bruce and Steve, and Clint and Natasha, and all would be well.

She still wanted a crack at using War Machine, though.

Pepper chuckled, turning her phone on. Maybe later. And maybe not War Machine, when she thought about it—Rhodey needed all the defense he could get. He hadn't run away with them, but they all knew he was Tony's best friend, and Tony's death had hit him hard. She hoped Tony would call Rhodey and let him know he was all right, and soon. He couldn't get involved right now—too dangerous, considering he was relatively under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar and Pepper would rather he stayed that way—but she would like having War Machine's backup when they did take on S.H.I.E.L.D. for real.

Pepper checked her messages; a list popped up of things Tony needed, as he had promised. The things were mostly basic engineering equipment, but right at the end...

She frowned, checking it again to see if she had read it right.

" _A snazzy new suit. There should be one in your office._ "

Pepper tilted her head. She got the first part, but the second...that was more of a mystery to her, that was for sure. What suit was Tony talking about? She would've noticed one in the office...unless...

Pepper looked over at Phil's briefcase. It was bright and sleek, supple black leather and a shiny gold handle...inlaid with rubies on the clasp. She swallowed.

It took a second for it all to fall into place, but it clicked well enough. Still...she had to be sure.

"Pep? Something wrong?" Phil called from within the shower. Pepper got up, going over to the briefcase, hesitant.

"Hey, Phil? Uh...where did you get this briefcase?" She asked. "Didn't you have another one before...well, y'know?"

Phil came out of the shower, a robe wrapped around him, snug and warm, as he padded over to examine the briefcase. He nodded, a frown on his face as he knelt down to examine it.

"Yes, I did," he said, "but we had to leave it when we ran; there was no point in having a briefcase anymore, I thought, and it would only slow us down. I found this in the office when I got back; figured it was a spare of someone's they had left in our office, or one I'd used before; not that it mattered, I haven't had a chance to open it up and use it yet." He looked up at her, confused. "Why?"

Pepper picked it up and left the room, running downstairs. Phil followed after her, befuddled and a bit concerned; he stopped to grab his gun before catching up to her. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You looked up as Pepper blazed past them, curious and eager, following her outside with cheerful beeps.

Before Phil could ask for any kind of clarification, Pepper held up the briefcase with a smile, hugging it tight against her chest for just a second.

"You clever little prick," she said, her tone loving and relieved, "Tony, what am I going to do with you?"

She shoved the briefcase away abruptly, before Phil could say a word. Once it fell to the ground and popped open, however, he didn't have to.

The suit swirled up around her in a flurry of crimson and gold, like autumn leaves settling over her skin, shining in the light of the New York skyline. Pepper had a moment to grin before the faceplate settled in, the whole armor beginning to glow.

 _"...Ms. Potts? Er...uh, greetings,"_ JARVIS said. _"I thought Phil advised you against wholesale slaughter; not that I would blame you at this point, but perhaps it is for the best."_  
  
"No, no, it's fine; I just...oh, he'll be the death of me one day, JARVIS. I didn't even think he would...well, do this." Pepper said. "I'm still not fond of him running around in the suit, but...well, we're at war, aren't we?"

 _"I suppose we are, madam, and that's Tony's best line of defense. However...I believe he may have intended for you to discover this one. Perhaps he was hoping a spin in the armor might change your mind,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper nodded.

"He's welcome to try," she said. "We can't go far, but...I'd like to go flying."

 _"That, I can arrange,"_ JARVIS said, his voice warm _. "Shall we go, Ms. Potts? We cannot stay long, but I believe a quick spin around New York is not a risky measure, so long as we stay away from street level."_

"In a second," Pepper said, before turning back to Phil. He just seemed rather nonplussed, but at least he was smiling. She came over and cupped his cheek, holding his hand steady in her other, careful and gentle.

"I'll be fine," she promised. "Wait for me; I won't be long. I just...think I should do this; for Tony's sake...and my own, I guess."

"I do too," Coulson agreed. "It's all right. The boys and I will wait right here."

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You beeped, chorusing in agreement. Pepper smiled at all of them, not used to not having her facial expressions muffled by the suit, but they understood all the same.

With that, Pepper rocketed off into the skyline, soaring above the buildings, or, more importantly, any cameras that could reach her and discover what they had found. The exhiliration let her think, wildly, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad; let them try to wage war for the suit. She'd fight them all, and in this, she'd win.

 _"Madam, I don't think we are ready to fight just yet. Think, though; how overjoyed would your lover be to fight alongside you now? You have to wait for that, Pepper, and try not to come to harm until it does, in fact, happen. I would rather not face the wrath of the Hulk because you had come to harm while he was absent,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper nodded, soaring over the clouds and letting the wind race over the suit. It sounded beautiful; better than driving in one of Tony's cars with the top down.

"True," Pepper agreed as she dove down, spiraling with her arms extended until finally pulling out of the dive and shooting forward just above the tip of the Empire State building, "Bruce fusses, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind us fighting _together_...but going out alone would make him worry. Not that I blame him. I'd worry if he did the same."

Her heart lurched and she smiled, helpless to do anything but grin as tears ran down her face.

"They're coming back to me, JARVIS," she said. "My team is coming back to me. My friends, my lover...they're all coming back to me. It'll be okay now, won't it?"

 _"One can hope, madam,"_ JARVIS said _. "For now, I think we should head home. We have an order to place and send, and a jet to organize. Have you considered how we'll end up transporting the boys?"_

Pepper nodded, turning around and heading back to her and Phil's place, skimming just above the clouds as the stars twinkled above her.

"There's plenty of trailers to be had in the Stark Industries building; we'll pack them into one and send it along with the other necessary equipment. Happy's still there, under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar; I was going to have him come get the boys in the morning and send them over with the other things Tony asked for. He can get them onto the plane easily; it's a private jet, one built by Tony. No way S.H.I.E.L.D. could hack it," Pepper told him.

 _"Understood, madam. That seems a solid enough plan; I will contact Happy and let him know to arrive in the morning. Best to have this all done before work_ ," JARVIS said. Pepper nodded in agreement as she alighted down on the sidewalk. True to form, Phil and the boys had all waited outside patiently. Pepper smiled, lifting up the faceplate as the rest of the armor fell away from her, falling into the briefcase, where it settled in, snug and content.

"So, I take it that this went well?" Phil asked, amused. Pepper grinned, flush with delight as she nodded an agreement.

"Marvelous," she agreed. "I could fly forever. I don't blame Tony for doing this at all...god knows I'd want to fly like that." She frowned. "The fighting I'm a little less keen on, but...I don't know. I want him safe down there, without either of the two of us to take care of him. The armor will do the trick, as much as I hate to admit it."

"A necessary evil," Phil replied. "And it isn't as bad as you think, Pepper. The trick is getting Tony to realize it isn't a shell to hide himself away in, or a cage to lock the world out, but an armor to force himself outward, into places he couldn't go without protection."

"Good luck convincing him of that, but okay," Pepper agreed, hefting the briefcase. "JARVIS is calling Happy and explaining the situation; I have to place the order for the supplies myself, but that's all right; I can have one of Tony's planes by tomorrow morning." Pepper frowned as something else occurred to her.

She turned to Dummy, Butterfingers, and You, cupping their metal carapaces gently. "Boys? You're going to go with Happy tomorrow, okay? You're gonna go on a nice plane ride, safe and sound, so you can go see daddy. Okay? You won't be scared or make a fuss, right? That means the bad men will find us, you know that."

Butterfingers, Dummy and You beeped sadly, hanging their heads. Pepper sighed and hugged them all tight, tears in her eyes.

No, she didn't want them to leave; they reminded her of safety and happiness, of a home in Malibu where there was warmth and a man down in his garage who loved her, who trusted her with his entire world. They were memories of a better time, a happier one; pizza boxes scattered around the living room floor as Tony yanked her into a hug, laughing as she admonished him half-heartedly for making a mess.

They had held each other then, relaxed and at ease, happy with the other's presence and the way their lives were going—a rare and beautiful thing. Dummy had put a blanket over them, and they had fallen asleep that way, the waves nudging forward, gently urging them along to their dreams.

"Mommy's gonna miss you, boys," she whispered. "Be strong for her too, okay? Don't...don't..."

_Don't leave. You're all I have left of my home, my family, my life._

"Don't make a fuss, and don't drive your daddy crazy. Mommy will be with you as soon as she can...okay?" She told them.

Dummy, You, and Butterfingers whirred as they gathered her into a hug, their robot arms embracing her as gently as they could. Pepper allowed herself a moment to weep; the armor had fallen, and she was a vulnerable, lonely woman, clinging to the scraps of the life she had left years ago. She could only hope with those scraps, she could do as Tony had done and build anew with them.

"Come along, angels, time for bed," Pepper said. "You can take mommy's keys with you, okay? She has spares. Come on, let's get you settled in..."

Phil let her do it herself this time; he knew she needed the solitude and peace it would allow her. She deserved a private moment with the two of them.

He went upstairs and, without really thinking, took a sip of the cocoa that had been sitting on the bed since his shower.

Phil snorted, amused, and swallowed it with a grimace; oh, right. They'd been gone for awhile. He really needed to keep better track of those things...

"Phil? Are you okay?" Pepper said, standing in the doorway. Phil smiled, nodding in agreement as he picked up the tray and turned around.

"Yes, of course," he said. "You place your orders for what Tony needs; I just need to reheat these, I think."

Pepper stared at the tray for a second.

Then she burst out laughing, and the sound of it warmed Phil's heart after seeing all her grief. He ruffled her hair as he left, humming in contentment as he went to go reheat their cocoa while she organized an order for everything they needed to send.

The briefcase sat on her lap, waiting to be tucked away within the enormous sheets of metal and boxes of nuts and bolts, unnoticed. It was better that way, for a time. Let them think that they were vulnerable. Pepper knew she had the strongest armor of them all.


	20. Not Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter with good reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length but there's a sudden scene shift soon, so I didn't have a choice...anyways, hope you enjoy!  
> The whole 'fertility god/crown of stars' thing I stole shamelessly from Norse myth because to be honest a crown of stars is badass as hell. The fertility thing is just useful.

Thor had noticed Tony's melancholy the second he hung up the phone, and as soon as Tony joined their little group, he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Anthony, may I ask what troubles you?" Thor said, concern clear in his tone. "You spoke with the Son of Coul and the lady Pepper. I cannot think that is a cause for such sorrow; they mean so much to you, do they not?"

"More than anything," Tony said, "except, well, y'know. Steve and the team. Which they're a part of, so...so I don't know, oh _hell,_ Thor, I just..."

He buried his face in his hands and massaged his temples, his shoulders shuddering as he tried to get himself under control. Thor waited patiently, until Tony finally looked up at him, tears in his eyes.

"Clint and Nat are dead," Tony said, "and they didn't find the caskets." He hung his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I...I just...didn't...god, I was the one who broke the news to Phil, I just...I hurt him..."

"Aye, they left us shortly after the Captain," Thor agreed, his voice quiet. "But I always found a few things strange, though I would not voice them to the Son of Coul; his grief was mighty and horrific in its course. I would not spur his madness further." 

Tony raised an eyebrow, curious. The others had gathered around them to listen as well, and it was clear Thor was going to have to explain.

"Even before the vigil, I could sense, to a degree, life and the virility of such; the fertility of life, natural and biological, is one of the things I studied as a child, curious, and that kind of magic speaks to me surprisingly well." Thor chuckled. "Loki was always so confounded by my talent for it...but regardless, when we went to grieve them, I noticed no marker of death in the forest. When something dies, especially something as complex and grand as a human, there is...almost an absence in the place of their death. Like a tree without its roots. Where Clint and Natasha died, I felt no such absence, but I brushed it off; perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. simply captured them and killed them somewhere else. But..."

Thor frowned. "There were no signs of a struggle, either, nor anything I would say had indicated that the two had come to blows. I could not find any sign of a violent death, either; no blood, nor any violence in the earth itself. With all that said...I still denied it. A limited knowledge of life magics did not mean I knew whether or not my brothers had fallen. But...when I returned to the site of our home, with the vigil magic coursing through me, I knew the truth. The whole world was alive around me...and yet, there was no sign of a violent death within the roots of that forest." Thor told them. "I did not tell the Son of Coul, for truth be told, I do not know what it might mean. I do not want to get his hopes up unfairly, nor complicate matters further."

Tony shrugged and shook his head, sighing as he sunk deep into contemplation.

"I don't know what it could mean either, big guy. Could be they did what you said, and killed them en-route to base or something...but it's the Black Widow and Hawkeye we're talking about here. Natasha could kill them much easier in close quarters, and even arrowless, so could Clint. They're dangerous, and S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't like to provoke danger when it can help it." Tony winced, accepting a cup of coffee from Erik with a groan of delight. "Thank god for coffee, though. Gimme a second, let the caffeine take over, and I might have something for you."

He sipped for a few minutes, mulling it over, before finally replying, "I don't know. I don't want to say they're alive, because that means they're in terrible danger somewhere, and we don't know where they are. That worries me. Plus, it's not something I want to tell Phil until we're certain; it'll throw him off his game and make him much more eager to risk everything to find them in what might end up being a wild goose chase. Let's focus on Bruce and Steve; after that, we can get our shit together regarding the terror twins. They can take care of themselves, if they really _are_ alive."

"This is true," Thor agreed with a smile. "The lady Natasha is...a terrific fighter, to say the least. I am both apprehensive and excited for her and Sif's meeting." 

"Yeah, agreed," Tony said. "Clint'll keep her safe. He always does. Them, if they're alive...they'll be fine. Steve and Bruce, though..." He frowned. "I've got to try to make the serum again. I have some of Howard's notes, and there was tons of study done afterwards. I talked to Steve about the serum once, too, curious; cobble all that together and we might get something. Or, well...we might not. I got all the ingredients I could from Pepper, but building a Vita-Ray machine could take time—time I don't think we have." 

"One step at a time, Tony," Erik comforted him. "The gamma radiation won't take nearly as long. We'll put that together first and try to bring Bruce back; if we can get him, his support when we work on the serum will help immensely."

"...I guess," Tony agreed. "I want Steve back, though. I need him." 

"The Captain will return to you, Anthony; this I swear. He couldn't bear to leave you for long, I am sure. He's lost enough." Thor murmured, putting a hand on Tony's shoulder.

He shuddered, rubbing his temples and shaking his head.

"Fuck _me_ ," he replied. "You're right, but I fucking hate it. I hate all of this so much." He shuddered. "Also, before we do anything else, I need new clothes. Wearing the clothes I died in is creeping me out."

Darcy tossed him a shirt and jeans, leftovers from their shopping excursion, and Tony sighed in relief, slinging them over his shoulder.

"All right, well and good then," he said. "I suggest everyone gets some rest; I need to be up and working as soon as these deliveries arrive, and none of you are going to like getting woken up to the sounds of welding."

Tony slipped into one of the camper vans quietly, shutting the door behind him. Once he was sure Tony was gone, Thor turned back to his comrades.

"I advise you do as he says...and give Anthony his peace for the night to grieve," Thor said quietly. "He has suffered much, and I believe the loss of the Captain shall simply make his grief worse."

The others nodded in agreement, everyone curling up and sleeping where they could, making themselves as comfortable as possible. Thor simply sat, too alive to rest, keeping watch and sipping a cup of coffee—not that he _needed_ it, but the taste was pleasing.

He hoped Loki was recuperating. He could feel his lover's soul resounding in his own, and it was more at ease than it had been when he had awoke...but there was a heaviness to it, as if Loki had just suffered more pain. Thor grit his teeth at that, but he calmed himself with the reminder that healing was often just as painful in the beginning as the suffering that had necessitated it in the first place. 

He let his thoughts wander again, thinking now of his comrades, his brothers-in-arms; Clint and Natasha. They were alive, he knew it. The others might doubt, but he knew they lived. They must. And that, perhaps, meant they were in danger.

Thor sent a quick prayer their way, a whisper of life along the roots of Yggdrasil, and closed his eyes for but a moment.

All would be well. But not yet, not yet...


	21. Snowbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat's out of the bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! This should explain a lot.

Natasha lit a cigarette for the sake of their cover, not actually smoking it as she dangled it between her fingers in the bar. Clint was off playing billiards, getting them some money for the night; it wouldn't be much, but it would be enough to get them a place to sleep, some information, and some food before they scoured the city in the morning. Again. 

She watched her lover and sipped her vodka, her hair trailing over her shoulders and her eyes pensive. Clint met her gaze for just a second, and he smiled; it was thin, tiny comfort, but better a threadbare blanket than none at all. And really, it wasn't Clint's fault.

This was all her fault, in fact, truth be told. She should have come alone, should have known better than to involve the people she loved in this, but she had no choice. Clint came with her because she could use the backup, and he would have been killed by S.H.I.E.L.D. otherwise. Phil, though...

Natasha shuddered, sighed, and closed her eyes, biting her lip and putting out her cigarette, the warmth leaving her. Phil, darling Phil, their angel, their agent, their partner, their lover...

It was Steve's death that started all this, she told herself, not her fault, really; S.H.I.E.L.D.'s, at the heart of it. Steve died, and no one was really the same after that. He was, at least, hopefully at peace with Tony somewhere, if you believed in that sort of thing. 

Regardless...Natasha wasn't happy with that arrangement. She was not her Coulson, her beloved, beautiful Coulson, so in love with the Captain and all he stood for...but Steve was a brother, a comrade, someone she liked and trusted, and those people were few and far between. She would have had no choice but let his death go unavenged...if there was not a way to fix him.

She had told Clint, in the dead of the night, speaking soft as snowfall so as not to wake their lover, sleeping peacefully beside them for the first time in awhile as of late. She explained the situation as best as she could, and Clint nodded in understanding. Still, he had thought of questions of his own...ones Natasha wished she would never have to answer.

"Do we take him with us?" Clint whispered, looking over at Phil. Natasha's heart ached at what she knew had to be the truth; she wanted to, more than anything, because she knew what it did to Phil, did to them all, when they were separated for missions, but...

"He will not die," Natasha said. "They will surely kill us, but our Coulson is a good man. Fury will let him live. He prefers to break good men rather than outright kill them. Pepper, also; she is too innocent of this life to have Fury order her death. They will live. But if we take Coulson...we leave Pepper alone against the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D., as the last of the Avengers. She will surely fall, and then we are _all_ lost."

Clint nodded, but it was clear he wasn't thrilled. He looked hesitant as he murmured, "Could...could we at least tell him?"

"I wish to, my love, more than anything. I would love to absolve our Coulson of all his grief and all his hurts...but what if Fury suspects we have not truly died? What will he do then to seek us out? He would torture Coulson for all his secrets, if he thinks he might know any. If Fury has even an inkling we have told Phil our location, he will torture it out of him or have our Coulson die in the attempt." Natasha said, her voice aching with grief. Clint bit his lip, holding her close.

"...Okay, babe," he whispered. "It'll be...just like old times, I guess. But...I can't...just go, not yet. Please. One last thing."

"The bags are packed," Natasha said. "I could hear some agents skulking about in the woods this morning; if we are to leave, it has to be soon. I can assure you they will be coming after us as fast as they are able." 

Clint nodded, giving her a quick kiss and stroking her hair, running his hands down over the bumps of her spine until he finally held her hips, pulling her against him. Natasha understood, and she nodded assent as she kissed Clint's neck.

"Quickly," she said. "And quietly, if only for the others' sake."

Clint grinned, leaning over and locking lips with Phil, a slow, sweet kiss melting between the two of them. Coulson was kissing back before he was fully awake; he blinked, sleepy and dazed, but before he could even ask what was going on, his lovers were both upon him, kissing him until he forgot the words to ask much of anything.

They made love to him for the next few hours, holding out the night for as long as they dared, taking Coulson in every way they knew he loved, letting him touch them and hold them just as he liked, letting him treat them like gods, like something delicate and fragile and so stunningly beautiful, unlike how they had ever been treated by anyone else over the course of their entire lives. 

They kissed promises into his skin, held him close and tight, chased away his nightmares, and bared themselves to him, totally and completely. Coulson took everything they gave him and gave them double in return, until finally, soaked and shivering, they all collapsed into bed together. 

Clint and Natasha held him close for a few more minutes, just until they were sure that he was asleep, his breathing soft and easy. They looked down at their sleeping lover, peaceful and surprisingly innocent as he slept, the picture of contented ease. They had built that happiness within Coulson, and now, with this one act, they had no choice but to destroy it.

They both gave him one last kiss before dressing quietly and slipping out the door; Thor, thankfully, had been keeping watch from outside since he had noticed his shieldbrothers' need to be alone—they could slip away from him much easily from outside. 

Before they left completely, melting away into the night, allowing the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopters to shoot at them and think they had managed to fell the great Black Widow and Hawkeye, they left two stones before the door, right where Coulson would find them, in the hopes they could, perhaps, rebuild their love and happiness on something so strong just as soon as they came back.

...

The two of them left the bar soon after, Natasha's head still uncomfortably full of reminiscing and the feeling of betrayal. Her and Clint's pockets were full of money, however, which eased the burden just a bit.

They checked themselves into a hotel for the night, curling up against each other in the bed for warmth; Natasha was used to Russian winters, but Clint was not, and while he was tough enough to withstand them, he would never turn down cuddling with Natasha.

She stroked his hair as they laid together in bed, kissing each other's faces slowly, lovingly, wishing with all their hearts another man lay beside them, holding them both.

Eventually, though, Clint pulled away from the dream to ask, "Nat...what are we _here_ for?"

She sighed and sat up; Clint looked up at her and gave her a quick look, the kind that meant she knew she was going to be hounded for an explanation soon. 

"C'mon, Nat! We've been chasing our own asses halfway around every major city in Russia for, like, almost two months now! What are we even _looking_ for? All you've said is 'a friend,' but we sure as hell didn't leave Phil and run out here to _socialize_ , did we? You can trust me, you _know_ that!" Clint protested. Natasha sighed and kissed his forehead.

"Clint, you're right. My dove, I know it is hard on you to see me being so secretive...but it is in truth a complicated thing even I might not have all the details on. I will give you an explanation if you wish...but it might not explain everything. Even _I_ don't know everything when it comes to this," Natasha agreed. Clint nodded, settling in as she laid back down beside him.

"Fine, fine. Just...y'know, tell me what you can," Clint said. Natasha kissed his forehead before she began.

"When I was a girl," she said, "and I worked for what remained of the Soviet Union, there was a man. You've heard Coulson speak of him; the Captain's greatest ally and best friend." 

"Bucky Barnes?" Clint whispered. "Phil said he was dead! And Steve—"

"Steve knows nothing about this, and I did not tell him," Natasha said firmly. "Before you claim that was cruel, know this. The Bucky I knew was not the one Steven knew. He was...harsher. Darker. He had lost an arm, replaced by a robotics expert in the KGB. And they had broken him." 

"How?" Clint murmured, curious. He knew better than most how many ways there were to break someone, and to be able to break Bucky Barnes, well...

"As far as I know from what my superiors told me, Bucky came to them with his mind a muddled mess. The Skull had warped his brain in an attempt to make him an assassin for him, but the Russians, seeing their shot at a super-soldier, stole Bucky away and did their best to undo the brainwashing to replace it with their own. It didn't quite work; Bucky broke the Skull's control, but lost almost all of his memories of anything that came before waking up in a Soviet cell." Natasha sighed. 

"So...that's how you met him?" Clint asked. She nodded.

"We worked assignments together. He liked me. Said my dark hair at the time reminded him of someone he had known, before. Called me Peggy. I tried to tell him, but..." Natasha sighed. "There was nothing to be done. He never called me that after the dye washed out, thankfully, but it got me thinking. If he might remember...or at least be inclined to help us...the super-soldier serum, albeit in a twisted form, runs through his veins, and he has more knowledge of it than anyone in the world. If we can find him..."

"We might get Steve back," Clint finished. "Okay, fair enough. That's worth the hunt. But...didn't you say he'd lost all his memories?"

"Yes...but from what I know, the Tesseract is what broke him. The Tesseract is currently in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s possession. With his help, we could infiltrate base, use the Tesseract to restore his memories, grab what we need, and rescue our fallen comrades as well." Natasha said. Clint nodded.

"Okay, Nat, I get it. We'll find him. Just...don't go alone, okay? We don't know how good of a guy Bucky's going to be at this point, and I'd rather you had a second pair of eyes." Clint said. Natasha leaned in for a kiss.

"Yes, my love, I promise," she said, her voice warm. "We will look for him in the morning. Rest now, my dove."

The two of them curled close and drifted off slowly, the room warm enough; still, they wished for the warmth of another, and it could not come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and yes, I fiddled with the exacts of Bucky's brainwashing in this one because it's both complex and also I only need certain parts of it to be involved for the sake of the fic.


	22. Goodbye, Bots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper says goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length; I'm going to try to start updating quicker so as to account for the shifting scene changes that make me shorten chapters. Eventually, all the plot threads will coalesce, I promise you that.

Coulson awoke the next morning to Pepper curled up beside him, sipping her coffee with a robe around her shoulders as she sat in bed. 

"Waiting for Happy?" He asked as he sat up, yawning widely. Pepper nodded. 

"Mhm," she murmured. "I know they have to leave, Phil, but...Dummy, Butterfingers, and You were all I had left of Tony, and now...I don't know. I really just don't know. They're my boys, just as much as they were Tony's...and I'm gonna miss them."

"I'm sure, Pepper," Phil said, his voice gentle, soft as he could make it so as not to be picked up on the bugs, "but you know Tony's safe, and the only way for the others to be safe as well is if he has some help. Besides, this could never work as a permanent arrangement; the boys aren't safe here, you know that. What if someone showed up looking for something and stumbled on them? We'd all be compromised, and you know it. It's better they leave. You'll be with them soon enough."

"So...we _are_ going to go through all this again? Defecting and running so they can kill everyone one more time?" Pepper remarked quietly, her voice sharp despite its softness, fearful of someone listening in. Coulson shook his head as he got up to get dressed.

"No," he said, "we're going to gather everyone up and fight right back. We're at war now; we have no other option. And this time...we'll win, Pepper. Because they'll be on our turf." 

Pepper nodded, though it was clear she wasn't entirely convinced. Coulson understood; she was cautious, which he approved of...but hopefully things would change once the team was back. Because they _would_ come back. Clint and Natasha included.

The doorbell rang; Pepper ran downstairs to go get it, and Coulson sighed, finishing up his outfit and picking up his briefcase as he went to make coffee.

He brewed it and made breakfast while Pepper and Happy talked outside, away from the bugs; Happy looked heartbroken but relieved.

"So...the boss is okay again?" He asked. "Y'know I couldn't go with you when y'ran, but...I worried."

"Yes, Happy, I promise—Tony's just fine, down south in New Mexico for the moment. Once we ship him all this, it should probably help him out quite a lot. Might even see the whole team okay in a month." Pepper remarked. Happy nodded.

"You're gonna miss the boys, huh?" He murmured. "S'written all over your face, doll. Don't worry. You an' I both know Tony'll protect them. And they're safer there."

"I know," Pepper rasped, "but they're all I have left of him." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter; I have to be strong for Tony's sake. And...for the boys' sake. They shouldn't see me send them off in tears." She ran a hand through her hair. "All the other supplies are in place?"

"On the plane, Pep," Happy replied. "They'll be fine, too. Taking them there as soon as you're ready, and I'll call you when we land, okay?"

"Okay," Pepper whispered, stifling her tears. "B-boys? Happy's here to take you to go see daddy..."

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You beeped, trundling out and standing on the sidewalk, waving to Happy eagerly. He patted them both on the head before opening the car doors.

"C'mon, little fellas, up y'get," he said, beckoning to them. Pepper watched them both trundle forward, heading towards the car, and decided she was well and truly done—she didn't have the strength to watch them leave after everyone else she'd loved had done the same.

She turned around so that she might be able to head inside and weep openly, in peace. Before she could, however, there was a tug at the sleeve of her robe.

A soft beep reached her ears, and she turned around to see Dummy grasping her with his claw, holding onto her tight. Beside him, You and Butterfingers beeped anxiously. 

Pepper held onto them tight and burst into tears, sobbing until she had nothing left to give but a hollowed-out heart and puffy, burning eyes. She grasped their metal bodies for strength, trying to ground herself, but soon enough she knew the ground would drop out from beneath her, and so it did nothing but make her feel terribly lost. 

All three of them, patted her head before beeping a few things in rapid succession; from within her pocket, her phone whirred.

 _"Madam, I believe that's Morse code,"_ JARVIS remarked, _"and if my translations are up to date...that would come out to 'Goodbye, mommy. Love you.'"_

Pepper wiped her eyes hastily and smiled as best as she could, doing her best to soothe them.

"Bye, boys. I love you too, so much. See you soon, okay? Be good for daddy." She whispered.

They held onto her for as long as they could, until Happy closed the doors to the car and turned to face Pepper, his own eyes a bit red-rimmed.

"Sorry about all this, Pep," he murmured. "They'll be back soon, promise. You're strong. Strongest lady I know, I mean." His face was a bit red as he added, "I mean, uh...I'll do whatever I can for you. You know that."

"You're a wonderful friend, Happy. Thank you for everything." Pepper said, throwing her arms around them. "See you soon, then?"

"'Course, Pep. I'll tell the bossman you're doing okay, promise," Happy said. "Just...don't make me a liar, all right?"

"No, of course not," Pepper said. "Goodbye, Happy."

He hugged her once more and left, driving away. From the open window, a little claw peeked out, waving at her.

Pepper smiled, waving cheerfully until the car turned the corner and was gone.

After that, she sank to her knees and broke down in tears.

...

Coulson gave her a few moments to weep in peace before going to get her, helping her up and holding her tight, bringing her inside and kissing her forehead, sitting her down on the couch.

"Pep, I need you to pull it together," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't ask this of you in any other situation, but we have to keep going into work. Please."

She nodded into his suit, trying not to sob. Coulson kissed the top of her head, holding her steady. Pepper held onto him for a long time, tears running down her face until, finally, after a few minutes where she was allowed to relax and breathe, someone holding her tight, Pepper calmed down enough to stand up.

"I should probably get dressed," she murmured. "I'll see you in a bit, Phil."

"Of course," he replied. "I'll have breakfast for when you're done, Pepper."

"Thanks," she said, heading back upstairs to get changed. Phil watched her leave, not speaking. 

With a heavy sigh, he went to go make breakfast, biting his lip and shaking his head. He couldn't blame her, of course...but it hurt not to know what to do for her.

She came back to him fresh and clean, her suitjacket neatly ironed and her skirt prim and A-line; nothing about her was out of place. He took her hand and felt it shake.

"We'll go out and get something nice tonight," Phil said. "On S.H.I.E.L.D., okay?"

Pepper laughed for him, bubbly with relief despite the ache he could hear ringing through it. Coulson kissed her forehead once more before they went outside and got into the car, driving off to work, doing their best to get through the war one day at a time. No matter what they had to sacrifice to do just that.


	23. Heartstrings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha awakes. Coulson reminisces. Tony is almost upstaged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of jumping around in this one, my apologies. I'm sure you're all wonderfully smart people though, you can keep up!  
> Tony and Phil being big fat dorks together is literally my favorite thing in the entire world, jsyk. I cannot abide by anything less than that Tony was a shrieking harpy Cap fanboy as a kid, lol.  
> Honestly, one of my favorite parts of this fic/favorite exchange comes in this chapter. I'll let you guess which it is!

The day waned on for everyone; Tony read over the notes Erik had accumulated so as to be able to jump right in on creating the radiation chamber, adding his own ideas when it came to engineering the chamber itself. After doing that, he messaged Rhodey quickly; it was an encrypted email sent from JARVIS to War Machine, so only Rhodey would read it. He needed Rhodey to stay safe, especially considering he was a military man...but selfish or not, he needed Rhodey to know he was safe, too.

Darcy had begun trading stories with the warriors; it started off great, but when it came to comparing the times they'd gotten laid, Jane shut them down and sent them off to spar. Darcy tagged along, keeping a running commentary as the Asgardians worked through exercises Tony knew from having seen Thor practice in the training room. The amount of reinforcing he had needed to put in was _obscene._

Tony sighed; Happy had told him the supplies would be shipped and ready to go by early tomorrow morning, but he couldn't help but think of Pepper and Phil. Pepper had seemed so distraught, and really, all Tony wanted to do was bring her over, tell her she was safe, and hold her in his arms for awhile. She was his dearest friend, and so utterly alone now.

Phil, though; Tony had intially simply enjoyed needling the agent, who reacted so smoothly to every taunt and smart remark, (Tony had always wondered how Phil tolerated him—then he met Clint, learned the two had been partners for four years, and understood all at once.) Then he just enjoyed his company. 

It was a chance thing; Tony had worn a Captain America shirt one morning while they remained in Malibu together, and before he knew it, they were blabbing to one another about old fanclubs and stories. Tony had revealed almost everything about Howard, while Coulson told him of his grandmother, who had inspired the same love in him for Steve that she, as a woman living during World War II, had possessed. They came to a much better understanding of each other after that; Tony even pitched in on Coulson's design project of a new costume for Steve. (He had always assumed it was simply a little personal fantasy of Phil's until he met Steve. Then he had to explain why he had started laughing so hard, much to Coulson's mortification.)

Coulson could be a bit uptight, but he was one of the best men Tony knew. He would take care of Pepper. And still...he would do all that, tend to a grieving woman and do his best to keep them going...even after he had lost both his lovers and his hero. Tony, well...

He felt a twinge of shame as he thought about it. Phil had lost both Clint and Natasha, possibly forever, and here he was whining about how it might take awhile to bring his lover back to life. Bullshit—Tony Stark would not be upstaged by Phil Coulson! Not if he could help it, damn it!

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had to keep working. He had to keep himself together. Phil needed one less person to worry about, and as long as Tony was safe and alive...that was good enough for now. The rest could fall into place later.

Tony opened up to a fresh page in Erik's notebook and began taking notes, awaiting tomorrow's work eagerly.

...

The night was quiet; dinner was peaceful and they enjoyed themselves well enough...but Pepper knew Phil was hiding something from her. She didn't dare ask what until the dark of the night had swirled its skirts over them, like a hush of fabric hem across an ornate dancefloor. They had both showered, and clung to each other with a wet, content sort of warmth.

"Phil?" Pepper finally whispered. "Are...are you going to be okay?" She swallowed, nervous. She knew she had to ask, but it still bothered her...

"Is...is this about Clint and Natasha?" She murmured, her voice gentle as she made to embrace him, holding him close as if in apology.

Phil didn't reply for a long time. Pepper had almost given up hope on him responding at all, until he said, his voice hoarse, "It's not something you should concern yourself with, Pepper."

"Oh, don't say that, please..." Pepper murmured. "Look, Phil, you're my friend. I love you so much, and you've done nothing but take care of me the past two months. I'm not going to ignore your problems. You don't ignore mine."

Phil didn't say anything again, just lying his head against her shoulder. Pepper stroked his hair, listening as he breathed, soft and slow, the feeling of it ghosting over her lightly freckled skin. Coulson kissed the skin, as if in apology for his intrusion, and looked up at her.

"I..." He swallowed and looked away. "They...they're my lovers, my partners, and I just...I f-failed them once, and now...now I don't even have a chance to make up for it."

He bit back a sob, but the utterly ravaged look on his face hid nothing. "My darlings died because I wasn't enough to protect them, even after all my promises, everything I swore to them I'd do...everything I _couldn't_ do, in the end. They died becaue I was weak, and there's no going back. Tony and Steve can fix each other, Thor and Loki can reconcile, and you and Bruce can be reunited...but I can't." Coulson closed his eyes, a weary, agonized groan escaping from his lips, shuddering and tumorous with misery.

"I can't...can't ever hold them. I can't ever tell them how sorry I am, or kiss them to sleep the first night after we're reunited. I won't ever be able to train with them again, to make sure they'll take care of themseves. I'll never lead them into a battle knowing they'll be safe as long as I'm with them. I'll never cook them dinner, or watch a movie with them, or share a bed with them...and _they'll_ never do these things either. They'll never go driving with me again, or grocery shopping, or out to lunch. We're lost to each other, forever..." Coulson rasped, agonized and rough. "I pray it won't hurt them as much as it does me, wherever they are. Knowing we're all lost to one another..I fear they're suffering. And that hurts me just as much. I don't...know what to do, now that I can't fix their pain."

Pepper was quiet for a long, slow breath. Coulson didn't blame her.

"I guess...all I can say is this," Pepper replied. "Phil, you don't _know_ if they're dead. And even if they are, god forbid, we'll find a way to revive them."

"But what if they didn't even bother with that? What if their corpses are somewhere in the middle of nowhere—not under the snows, like Natasha wanted, or near a tree, like Clint wanted...some barren landscape where they're..." Phil couldn't even finish his sentence. Pepper could feel tears spreading over his skin.

"If that's the truth," she said after a moment's pause, "then if all else fails, you'll join them. Because without them, we fall. We either fight together, or die alone. Without them, we're all lost. This isn't a game we win without all our pieces in place."

They were both quiet for a little while after, breathing in the idea of one another, their fear and pain mingling, sharp and bitter as vinegar as it sunk into their senses.

"What have we become," Phil murmured, "where that's starting to sound less and less like an unattractive option?"

"Tired," Pepper replied. 

Phil didn't have anything to say to that. Pepper sighed and embraced him, kissing his forehead.

"Rest. Things will look better in the morning. No one wants to die when the sun is shining, Phil," she promised, stroking his hair. Coulson buried his face back into her shoulder as he felt her cradle him close, doing his best to give into her orders. It took him some time, but eventually, finally, they fell asleep against one another.

...

Natasha awoke as Coulson fell asleep, a thousand miles away from her; it was the dead of night in Russia, quiet and stagnant. Time did not seem to pass until the sun rose, and she had a few more hours to go until such an occasion.

Natasha had no idea as to why she had awoken suddenly, as if sharply yanked free from a dream, but there was an ache in her chest, her heart throbbing beneath her skin. She chuckled, low and dark.

"Heartstrings, then," she murmured. "It seems someone has yanked me awake by my heartstrings."

Perhaps that was why, even after comforting herself with the soft, slow sound of Clint's breathing, she couldn't fall back asleep. She tried, in all fairness, to do just that, but to no avail; not even as the snow fell outside, silencing any other sounds that might have come her way in the three AM stillness, could her mind be hushed. She wished for a blanket of snow to smother her thoughts, make them numb and cold.

Bucky. Gentle, broken Bucky, rough around the edges, as jagged and sharp as the peaks of the mountains they had found him lying upon, bruised and bleeding. Bucky, who might sit and scream until his voice gave out at things only he could see; the same man that would give her candy, sit her on his lap and call her Peggy, once or twice.   
Only when her hair had been dark as the forests had he called her Peggy, then sat and cried. She had never asked why; even as a young child, puberty a faint light on the horizon, she knew there were things her beloved Bucky could not explain.

That said, what was he now? Was he the man that still ached for that woman with her rich, dark hair, a broken man looking for what might remind him of a home he had long forgotten? Or was he bestial now, the same man that snapped necks and ripped out throats and broke bones, mutilating and murdering his way through every mission they assigned him to, too far from home to find his way back? Was she still his little Natalia, the girl he had given sweets and blankets to shield her from the cold as they rode in the back of a dingy truck to another mission? Or would she be an enemy?

Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She hated not knowing things; it was, in fact, her job to know everything and everyone, and everything _about_ everyone. But Bucky had been like sand to her, slipping between her fingers.

She knew more now. She hadn't meant to learn such a secret, but she had stumbled upon it; Steve had been late for dinner, and when she went to check up on him, he was holding dog tags in his hand, tears running down his face.

She knew, then, knew how much Steve had loved Bucky, how much Steve missed him, how even as he adjusted, little by little, to the future, Bucky was still dead, and so there would always been a hole, a wound that had simply widened with time. 

Even knowing this, she did not tell Steve a single thing. She murmured soft apologies in Russian, kissed both his cheeks, and gave him a cool washcloth to soothe his eyes so he might come downstairs and eat without fielding any awkward questions. 

Those who did not know her might call her lack of divulgence harsh, unfair. But Bucky was a secret she had kept from _everyone_ ; her darling Clint, her savior Coulson, her partners, her boys...and Steve. There was a reason for that; Clint and Coulson did not need to know of her suffering before she came to them. They did not need to know all the red in her ledger; it was the woman they loved, not the red. That, she was trying to move beyond.

And Steve? 

The answer was simple, Natasha reflected as she watched the snow before her fall, slow, fat flakes that settled over her windowsill, shining in the dull light of the streetlamps.

She didn't know if Bucky would be her kind, sweet soldier, who had braided her hair and soothed her hurts, made her feel a little more human, nor did she know if he would be Bucky who was known as the Winter Soldier, the brazen monster who slaughtered his way through every mission he was put on, who had almost shot her before she had called his name, tears in her eyes, begging him to put the gun down. 

But she knew for a fact that he wasn't the Bucky who would remember Steve.


	24. Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much to go over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished writing Risorgere, which means I can of course extend update length and things like that! Hooray! I'll probably start putting up the other story I've been working on soon, about when the 616-based fic is over.  
> Anyways, seriously; a whole lot comes up in this chapter, too much to describe. Hope you enjoy!  
> Though I admit, this plays games with Natasha's age due to the fact that I don't think she has the same serum-enhanced age she does in the comics. Just assume this was like an underground branch of ex-Soviets that survived the Cold War. Less plausible stuff has occurred in comics.

The two of them awoke the next morning; Natasha was awakened after a few more hours' uneasy sleep to the feel of the warm, wet sensation of Clint's kisses on her bare breasts, warming the chilled skin. She moaned, the cry trailing off into a soft sigh as she invited him closer with a lazy gesture. Clint purred around her skin and settled in between her legs, covering her body with his and warming her. Warming her up turned into lovemaking, and they found themselves overheated in the throes of passion soon enough; Natasha sighed with delight and clung to him, quivering.

When they returned to themselves and were laying in bed, warm and content, Natasha finally spoke up, "There is a man I know...from before. From the program Bucky and I were trained in, in fact; he was our handler in the Red Room. He...well, he may be dead. But if there's anyone who might know Bucky's current location, it's him."

"Great," Clint said, "but if he's in a place any colder than this, I'm going to start setting myself on fire for some fucking warmth."

Natasha giggled, giving him a sweet kiss; the soft, girlish laugh soothed Clint, as she had known it would. Her laugh was not a thing that came easy, and he and Coulson both treasured it like the first snowfall of the season.

He pulled her out of bed, twirling her about in the cold hotel room for a bit, the two of them still completely naked; Natasha laughed for real this time, warm and throaty and genuine, and Clint rewarded her with a kiss.

They embraced for a moment longer before dressing quickly and slipping out the hotel door; they had a man to hunt down, and there was no one better at hunting in the whole world than them. 

...

"What's his name, Nat?" Clint asked as they slipped into one last bar in an attempt to garner the man's current location. Natasha pursed her lips, tilting her head a bit as she signaled for two drinks.

"I don't know whether or not it was a codename, but we all called him Solokov," she said. "It was how I referred to him then; god knows if he's changed it." 

"Here's hoping someone knows," Clint remarked. "It's getting cold enough I'm going to be able to start using the snot dripping from my nose as arrows." 

"Clint!" She said, laughing as she nudged his shoulder and gave him a look. "You are such a child, my love."

"I try, I try," Clint teased, pecking her cheek before the man tending bar brought them back their drinks. Natasha surveyed him carefully, quiet.

Then she grabbed his arm and twisted it, pulling him down with his under-arm exposed. Clint gave her a look of shock and confusion; Natasha didn't hear him, her eyes blazing. 

"Your tattoo," she said, tracing the letters Clint couldn't read. "You are KGB?"

"Ex," the man grunted, pulling his arm away. "Aren't we all, though, _Natalia?_ "

"I was never one of _you_ ," she snapped, slugging back her vodka and glaring at him. The man chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, no of course not. Your skill set was much more specific than mine ever was, Natalia. The Black Widow, one of the most dangerous people in Russia. And yet you flew the coop, ran away to America's forgiving arms. Tell me; why did the little snowbird come home to roost?" He asked. Natasha growled, gritting her teeth, her baring defensive as she moved to cover Clint, subtly shielding him as well as she could.

"I am looking for a man with information," she finally said. "Solokov. You know him?"

"Yes, I do," the man said. "For a price."

"Name it," Natasha replied without missing a beat. "I've more money than you could dream of. You could stop tending bar, for one."

A smirk flickered across the man's face as he shook his head. 

"You didn't answer my question," he said. "I wasn't talking about Solokov; I was talking about here. Russia. We _made_ you, Natalia; you were formed out of ice and snow and everything that lurks beneath. You are a vicious creature by nature, with a heart as cold as the blizzards and hands as sure as their arrival. It made you good, made your skill set highly appreciated by the most powerful men in all Russia...and you gave that up to flee to America." 

He snorted, evidently disgusted by her sudden upheaval, and took Clint's vodka, swilling it down in one sip. He gestured with the glass, giving her a sharp look. 

Natasha didn't so much as twitch, but all her muscles had coiled, like a tiger ready to spring. Clint didn't move either, but he could feel his knife in his pocket, hyper-aware of its presence as he contemplated the man before him.

"You bring back a little hawk playing at assassin and a new face, a new life. The snow will take all that from you again if you're not careful; bury it all beneath the ground so it can have you for itself. So my question stands, Natalia; why did you come back?" He asked. "If you tell me, I'll tell you where Solokov is. I just want an answer to a question we've all been asking ourselves for a long time."

Natasha was quiet for a few minutes.

"Snow melts," she finally said. "It becomes a river, and it drowned me. It wasn't so bad to be a drowned woman, though; I was pulled from the river and birthed anew. I left because I was sick of the cold; I needed a place to warm my bones, warm my heart. A river can be just as strong as the snows, as the ice. But a river is not stagnant, like the snows; it can move, it can grow and change. I needed to change. And if I freeze again, so be it. It won't be forever. I am not in a place of endless winter anymore; I have found the sun. I don't fear the cold."

She had taken Clint's hand and held it; there had been no fuss or fanfare about the gesture, but Clint wouldn't have let go, not for anything. He could feel the way she clung to his fingers and knew she felt just the same.

"I had a choice," she finally said, after the man made no move to reply, "death or dishonor, exile from my home. I made a different call. I lived. And I found a new home."  
There was silence for a time. Natasha did not move from her spot.

"Solokov's living in an apartment beside the old slaughterhouse," he finally said, pushing a bottle of vodka across the bar to them. "Bring him this. Tell the bastard he needs to come back in here for a drink."

"Of course," Natasha said, a faint smile on her lips as she took it. "I'll tell him."

She left then, beckoning for Clint to follow; he slipped out behind her, as still and stealthy in his step as a panther slinking beside her. 

They walked in the snow for a time, the only sound echoing around them the crunch of their boots within its depths. 

Clint pulled her close in the middle of the street and kissed her, holding her close, cupping the back of her head and wrapping an arm around her waist. Natasha threw her arms around his neck, holding him closer than he had dreamed imaginable, so close he could almost feel the winter melting in her bones as he warmed her.

"You'll always have a home here," he promised as he pulled away. "Nat, my Nat..." 

"I know," she replied, gripping his hands. "It is all right; I did not fear. After all, it was you and Coulson that pulled me from the river in the first place."

Clint smiled as he gave her another kiss, just as sweet but a lot quicker. 

"We'll go back to him," he promised. "He's like the sun; we both need him to stay warm, to stay alive."

"Indeed," Natasha agreed. "But I won't go until we've resolved this; until we've made these months worth his grieving and our loss."

Clint nodded, and she took his hand with another small smile before she led him to the slaughterhouse. It was grey and dismal, as were the small, dingy apartments that surrounded it. Only one had any kind of lights on. Natasha surveyed it for a second before she beckoned to Clint.

"There's a view into the window if you can get onto the upper balcony on the left-side apartment; the one on the fifth floor?" She said. Clint nodded.

"Yeah, babe. I can get up there. You go meet him; if anything goes wrong, just get away from the window and duck." He replied. Natasha nodded, giving him a quick kiss before the two parted ways.

She crept through as silent as winter, but there was a hesitation to her step, a hollowness to her gait; without Clint or Coulson by her side, something vital had left her, and it showed in the stiffness of her movements, stealthy as they were. Natasha comforted herself with the truth that Clint was still with her, still protecting her; he was by her side in the best way he could be. He would prefer to protect her this way, and she had to handle that, _had_ handled it before, but that had been with Coulson whispering in her ear, her lover's warm voice soothing her in the darkest of times, and now...

Natasha shook it from her mind as she opened the last door.

A man sat there, watching television. The remote dangled from his hand. The light of the television playing out before him illuminated his face, and as she looked up to meet the man's gaze, she dropped the bottle of vodka in shock.

It shattered on the floor, spilling over the rotten floorboards between them; Natasha paid it no heed, stepping over glass and coming closer hesitantly, her hands shaking. The man in the chair didn't move.

It was only once she got close enough that she could reach out and touch him, should she wish, that she whispered quietly, "Bucky?"

His metallic arm gleamed in the dull light of the television, shining brighter than the light in his eyes. He looked tired and worn, half-dead on his feet.

She cupped his cheek, feeling as if she was handling a tiger, half-wild even now, and the light rekindled, just enough. He leaned into her touch a little, not speaking. Not until she pulled down the hood of her jacket, letting her auburn hair tumble over her shoulders.

"Natalia?" He whispered, his voice rough with lack of use. "My Natalia?"

"It is Natasha now, Bucky," she said to him, her voice warm. "Natasha now and forever."

"I see..." He rasped, meeting her eyes. "You've been looking for me. I've been hearing the rumors my little snowbird flew home to roost for weeks. I thought you'd come here eventually; Solokov was the only one left, besides the two of us."

"Was?" Natasha asked, hesitant. Bucky gestured to the broken bottle of vodka.

"He died the way we'd all like to; drowned in his spirits, not his sorrows. It doesn't concern me," he replied. "But what _does_ pique my interest is why you're looking for me, my Natasha."

"I...have a request only you can comply with," she said, meeting his eyes and hoping the Bucky she spoke to now was the Bucky of warm rides in the back of cars and sweets pressed into her soft hands. "I...I need to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. and retrieve a few things. The bodies of friends. Technological supplies to revive them. Nothing much. We've done worse."

"Didn't you leave us for S.H.I.E.L.D., my little snowbird?" Bucky murmured. "You made the call. You left us. You left _me._ "

"Was that any place for a girl to live?" Natasha snapped. "Don't lie to me, damn you, and don't be selfish. I'd spent my whole life in the Red Room, you'd _watched me_ grow up there! Was that truly what you wanted for me for the rest of my life?" 

"...No," Bucky said after a moment's pause, "but you were...you were all I had. It was so lonely in the room after you left. So dark. And..." He inhaled sharply, coming off almost as a sob. "I...I ran like you, did Natasha, I ran but...I didn't know where my feet were taking me, so I stopped. I couldn't find you, my sweet snowbird. I couldn't find myself, no matter where I looked."

Natasha nodded, taking his hands and squeezing them both tight, feeling the metal bite into her skin. 

"Bucky, I'm here now. I'm still Natasha. I don't have to hide anymore, like I used to. I found good people, even though I wasn't in a good place. They can...they can be your people too, if you come with me. We'll get my friends back and get back at S.H.I.E.L.D. for taking you from me, won't we? But you have to help us, Bucky. You have a very specific skill set and some very valuable information, and we need you." She pleaded.

It was quiet in the room for a time. From across the street, Clint narrowed his eyes, keeping his arrow trained on Bucky, just in case.

"I want people," Bucky whispered. "I miss people, Natasha. I try to remember them, and I just...I just can't. You're the only one...the only one in my mind. The only one who stayed."

"You'll find them, Bucky. We'll go together. It's going to be all right. Just...stay with me now, okay?" Natasha asked. "Come on, Bucky. Let's go. We've got somewhere warmer to be."

"We do?" Bucky said, a smirk, so familiar and boyish, playing across his lips. "Oh boy. Cancun for us, Natasha?"

"If only," she said with an overdramatic sigh. "Sadly, it's only the States for now—but let's be honest, anything is warmer than this."

"True," Bucky agreed, "and could you tell your friend we're leaving, my snowbird?"

Natasha froze on the steps. 

"He is my lover," she finally said after a moment's pause. "Don't you harm him. He is _not a threat_ , Bucky. I swear."

"I know, I know. Though I'm disinclined to agree. Anyone who takes my Natasha away from me is a threat," Bucky said, his voice getting soft and his eyes going so, so cold. "I've been threatened enough."

In an instant, Natasha whirled around and threw him against the wall, gripping him by the neck and looking into his eyes.

 _"Do not hurt him_ ," she snarled, in a voice as rough as crashing icebergs, "he is _mine,_ soldier, and he is _not a threat_. I will _not_ hesitate to take you down now if you raise so much as a finger to my lover. Bucky is my friend, my ally. The Winter Soldier can be a foe if he decides to take action right now, and I will not hesitate to kill him if he does. But you are _Bucky. My Bucky._ Put the gun _down_ , Barnes. That's an order."

Bucky had grabbed the gun from his hip without even noticing; as she let him up, he set it aside, his good hand quivering with fear and panic.

"I...I'm sorry," he said. "Natasha, I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I don't have any more memories but you. I don't...don't want to lose those too. Please..."

Natasha embraced him, stroking his hair as he shook in her arms. 

"Hush, Bucky, hush," she soothed him. "We have handled this before and we shall handle it now. It is only your mind, Bucky. We can fix that. It is not so permanent as a bullet, to have a broken mind. Come on, now. I'll protect you. From yourself, if I must. Come, Bucky..."

She led him down the steps and out into the cold, desolate street. Clint was waiting for them at the door, knife in hand. Natasha shot him a look.

"Now, don't you start," she said. "Be polite. He's trying his best."

"He could've _hurt you_ ," Clint rasped, his eyes wild. "I saw from the balcony, but I couldn't make the _shot_ , and you could've _died_ —"

"I would _never_ hurt my Natasha," Bucky interjected. " _Never_."

"You might say that _now_ , but what're you going to say during your next mood swing?" Clint demanded. "I'm not fucking playing Russian Roulette with his moods, Nat! Not with your life on the line!"

"He will be fine," Natasha said firmly. "Bucky, this is Clint. He's angry right now because he is an overprotective idiot who thinks I cannot handle myself. I think you two will have a lot to talk about."

Bucky snorted. Clint, despite himself, laughed a little as well. The knife began to inch back to its holster.

"Boys, really. There's no reason for you to fight; this is Clint Barton, my lover, Bucky, who is one of the men that made me whole. Clint, this is my comrade and brother-in-arms, Bucky Barnes, who is the man that kept me alive so you could make me whole. Do we understand why there is no reason for animosity, or must I break heads?" She told them both. 

"...Yes, ma'am," Clint muttered with a sigh. Natasha kissed his cheek before kissing Bucky's as well.

"Good, good. I love when my boys are quick learners," she said. "Bucky?"

"... _One_ of the men?" Bucky asked. Natasha smiled as they started down the street.

"I've got another one at home," she said, her tone flippant; Bucky didn't buy it for a second, seeing the flash of pain in her eyes. Still, he'd play along for a minute.

"Lucky minx," he teased playfully. "Two men, and here I am without even a single dame hanging off my arm." 

"It's certainly not your looks," Natasha shot back. "I'm sure they simply need to see your sunny personality, and all will be well."

The two of them shared a quick smirk before Bucky took her hand.

"He misses you, I'm sure," he finally said. "Don't worry. I'll help you get back to him. You gave me people again. I can...return the favor."

Natasha blinked rapidly, shaking her head and clenching her hands. She hugged him for the single briefest instant before storming off ahead, heading towards town, where the train station stayed, a way out and towards home. Clint and Bucky hung back for a second.

"...Thanks," Clint finally said. "She really misses him. I don't know what to tell her anymore. Ever since this all started..." He sighed. "I'm just...doing my best to take care of her. Even though she'll never admit she needs it."

"She never told me she needed it either," Bucky said. "But you always know. When she lets you in, you know."

They shared a glance of understanding before Bucky sighed and patted Clint's shoulder, the two of them hiking through the snow drifts to reach Natasha, already up two streets ahead.

"So," he said, "mind filling me in on the situation right now? Natasha doesn't normally take up graverobbing for fun _or_ profit."

"It's...a long story," Clint said, wincing, "but I'll explain on the way. C'mon, we can hang back a bit. I don't know if she wants to hear it again."

Bucky nodded, settling into step beside Clint as the archer began to explain in hushed voices, hoping they didn't catch on the wind as they all headed back for the town.

...

The soldier didn't seem to quite comprehend the situation for a time; it was then that Clint reflected his life may, in fact, be madness. 

"I stopped understanding somewhere around the Norse god," Bucky said, "but...let me see if I have the details right. You guys left, because S.H.I.E.L.D. was, well, a beast you couldn't bear anymore, and they killed your team for it. You two escaped and came to find me, so you could get a few things out of their test chambers. Is that it?"

"The long and short of it, yes," Clint agreed. "Once you shuck the trappings of the bedlam house my life has evidently become, the truth is still that my team suffered and we need help."

"That much I could glean," Bucky replied. "But, seriously...is he _really_ a Norse god, or..."

"Of a sort," Clint admitted, "he's technically an alien people worshipped as a god, but really, I'm not going to get all pedantic on the details."

"Oh, of course he is," Bucky said, amused. "It doesn't matter, though, you're right about that; if Natasha says they need help, I'm inclined to believe her. She's a prideful little vixen, that one, and she wouldn't admit needing help unless the world was ending." He paused and grinned, wrinkling his nose a bit. "Maybe not even then."

"I could buy that," Clint agreed with a laugh. "She'd probably be able to stop it singlehandedly, though. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Neither would I," Bucky said. "Did she ever tell you about the time she dismantled an entire weapons cache in Ukraine? They had enough stolen nuclear missiles to get the entire world at war, and she took down their whole system."

"No, she did not," Clint replied, "but the lack of surprise I have frightens me more than the idea of impending nuclear apocalypse, and _that_ is a bit more worrying."

"Isn't it just," Bucky agreed. "I'll have to buy you a drink sometime so we can discuss this. I'm sure she's gotten up to great things in S.H.I.E.L.D.; she's always much more dangerous with a partner. As much as she'll never cop to it, she likes having someone to fight for."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, "she does. Even if S.H.I.E.L.D., in the end, fucked us over...she never regretted being my partner. I'm so grateful for that." He looked at Bucky and clasped his shoulder, feeling the place where flesh met metal. Bucky's eyes were full of gratitude when Clint didn't flinch. "I'll have to get you a drink myself; there's a lot to tell on that end."

"I figured as much," Bucky said. "But...there's one thing I'm curious about. What tipped the scales? What made her say enough was enough?"

Clint sighed, pulling his jacket tigher against his chest as he looked up at the gunmetal-grey sky. 

"Truth be told, it was the whole team's consensus, in the end," he said. "We were all fucking fed up for one reason or another. The real tipping point came when they wanted the Avengers, using this weapons system called Phase 2 that damn near none of us liked, to interfere in some political clusterfuck over in the Middle East; Tony had a panic attack mid-mission and almost died, 'cause he got captured and tortured there awhile back, and Steve flipped out—"

Clint stopped himself, suddenly remembering who stood next to him. Bucky didn't betray so much as a twitch, however, as he looked at Clint. No recognition flickered in his eyes. 

Knowing how Bucky's loss had haunted Steve for the rest of his life, Clint ached in kind, but didn't push the subject; not yet.

"Anyways, Steve, our team leader, flipped the hell out, and Phil's been waiting for an excuse to make us all leave for awhile now; Bruce was down with it, because if anyone's absolutely sick of the government, it would have to be our Bruce...and Thor, well, he's all noble and kingly and shit; he thought it unjust. So, with Tony's friend Pepper with us, we packed our shit and flew the coop." Clint shrugged. "It didn't last long. But...it was nice while it did. If we can go back to being free...I'd like that. I'd really like that."

"I can imagine," Bucky agreed. "Being free is...nice, usually. But the nightmares always stay."

"Yes, they do," Clint replied, his voice somber and understanding. He could only imagine the nightmares Bucky would have after a lifetime of pain. "But...y'know, you always have something to make it better. If you're lucky."

"I can hope," Bucky murmured. "Thank you, Clint. I just have one more question..."

"Shoot," Clint said, not quite listening as he watched the town appear on the horizon. If he had looked, he would have seen a spark flicker in Bucky's eyes, as bright and eerie blue as the Tesseract's core.

"Does Steve still fuss? He was such a mother hen, back with the boys..." Bucky said.

Clint froze where he stood. He didn't say anything for a minute. The flicker died in Bucky's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "did I say something? My mind got away from me a bit. It...it happens, y'know. More often than I'd like."

Clint was still quiet for a minute longer. Then he sighed, clasped Bucky's shoulder, and gently urged him forward. 

"Nah, bud," he said, "you're fine. Now c'mon, if Nat can get us train tickets, we can be somewhere warmer soon enough."

"Thank god for that," Bucky said, following after Clint as they finally caught up with Natasha. Clint gave her a look; she just nodded.

"Come, boys," she said, a smooth purr to her voice, "I'll order the tickets now; we'll go get our things and be on the train in an hour."

The two of them followed after, but she could practically feel the tension pouring off of Clint; she sighed and shook her head. She would talk to him about it as soon as possible.


	25. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Clint, and Natasha talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly an interim chapter, but with Clint/Nat fuzzies and Buckyfeels, so there's that, too. Hope you enjoy!

Thankfully, possible arrived soon enough; Clint and Bucky trekked back to the hotel for their suitcases, and while it wasn't much, the spare food and clothing would be enough to get them to the airport. There was a small, private one Natasha knew, owned by a man who owed her more than a few favors, and that, thankfully, could see them to New York.

The train was surprisingly cozy; Bucky yawned, stretching out in the seat and sighing, content, as Natasha passed him one of the energy bars they had kept stocked up for future use. He chewed it peaceably enough until, finally, the last bite finished, he curled up in the seat and closed his eyes, falling asleep. He had to have been exhausted; Natasha had noted the bags under his eyes when she had confronted him, and she couldn't help but wonder when had been the last time he'd slept.

"He remembered Steve," Clint blurted out, without any fuss or fanfare; Natasha quirked an eyebrow as Clint groaned. "Sorry, but I just—I wasn't expecting it, and he just...I mentioned Cap when I explained why we left, and he didn't seem to notice, and then...well, he asked me if Steve still fussed, then seemed like he'd forgotten even asking!"

"He had breaks like that, every so often," Natasha said. "Something had to spur it; like when I dyed my hair dark, he would call me Peggy, sometimes. They're nothing substantial, but...they're a shock, aren't they?"

"It's sure as hell going to shock _Steve!"_ Clint snapped. "Fuck's sake, what if Steve wakes up and Bucky doesn't know who he is? Can you fucking _imagine_ his freakout? He'll be completely _useless_ if that happens!"

Natasha winced, rubbing her temples and nodding in agreement.

"True," she said, "it is drama we do not need. But I have a plan."

"Fill me in, then, babe," Clint said, hunching his shoulders and sighing. "I can't help you if you don't."

"My love, I will, I swear," Natasha murmured. "I do not hide things from you on purpose. It is...simply not important, sometimes. And I worry about subjecting you to too much."

"Aw, hell, Nat," Clint said, taking her hands into his and bringing them up to his lips for a kiss. "Don't underestimate me, babe. I can take a lot, you know that. I'll do whatever I can for you, angelface, and that means shouldering some of your burden, too." 

Natasha gave him a warm, genuine smile, running a thumb over his rough palms, leaning in across the table for a quick kiss.

"All right, my love," she agreed. "Forgive me. I should have trusted you." She sighed and shook her head. "At any rate, it doesn't matter; the plan can be divulged now. It must be, in fact...but there are some details only you can know right now. Should Bucky find out...well, he simply cannot. Not yet."

"I figured," Clint said, "so...what's up?"

"I intend to bring him to S.H.I.E.L.D. not just so he can aid us in pilfering bodies and equipment; we could have done that on our own. His information about the serum, however...that is locked away within him, as you have seen. He remembers nothing, not even the extent of all his missions; they would wipe his memory every so often. It didn't always stick, not entirely, but they would poke out specific sections of vital information if they could. AIM technology is powerful." She sighed, gesturing to Bucky and looking out the window before continuing.

"At any rate, having him come into contact with the Tesseract should break the original brainwashing—the one that has made him forget who Bucky Barnes _was._ Not the Winter Soldier; Captain America's brother-in-arms, his second in command. If he remembers that...hopefully, he'll remember everything else. I don't know how far the brainwashing can be broken. But if he could just find Steve again, for both their sakes..."

"We don't need to steal that, right, babe?" Clint said. "'Cause, not for nothing, but we were already pretty pissed about Phase 2, and Fury's definitely put it under tighter security since then."

"Yes, that's true..." Natasha shook her head and sighed. "In any case, we only need him to come into contact with it. That shouldn't be too hard. We'll pilfer what we need after that, then leave."

"To where?" Clint asked. "I mean...y'know, how far can we run?"

"Do you recall the woman Thor spoke of; his friend, Jane Foster?" Natasha replied. Clint shrugged.

"Sort of," he said. "I mean, mostly?"

"All right, well, regardless; she is alive, we assume, and an ally. S.H.I.E.L.D. considered her for employment at a time; that means she is in our files. I can access them and pinpoint her current location. We will go from there." Natasha told him. Clint nodded.

"Okay, fair enough," he agreed. "That might be a bit of a long trip, though. You sure Bucky'll be up to it?"

"If it means that at the end of it, he can bring back Steve?" Natasha said. "So long as he remembers, my love, he will fight his way through all the circles of Hell to reach our goal."

"Well...that's a comfort," Clint said. "Er, sort of."

"We would do the same for Coulson," Natasha reminded him. "We are not so different from him, you and I, my dove. The difference right now is that we remember, and we may mourn. Bucky will, soon enough. Until then..." She sighed. "Let's just...try not to bring it up."

"Will do, babe," Clint said. "Now, want me to see what can be done about getting a decent cup of coffee off the cafe car?"

"I'd settle for mediocre coffee, but yes, my love. Get a cup for Bucky; black, two sugars. He'll want it when he wakes." Natasha said. 

Clint nodded, giving her a quick kiss. As he pulled away, he met her gaze.

"You loved him, right?" He said. "Like, y'know..."

"Like a brother," Natasha said. "I have never loved a man the way I love you and Phil."

"I know, babe," Clint replied, his voice warm. "I'd never question that. But you loved him, regardless. And that's why we came for him, above all else."

"What do you mean to say, Clint? Don't be cryptic." Natasha replied, her voice growing sharp.

Clint gave her another kiss this time, longer and more loving, sweet and gentle.

"Your heart was never ice or stone," he said as he pulled away. "That's what I'm saying. There was never a time, my Natasha, where you were not full of love. And that makes me proud. And, well...relieved."

Natasha smiled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Clint felt it warm his whole body, moreso than even being back in the sun, in the warmth of another country could have.

Even in Russia, with her beside him, there might be hope at the warmth...

"Of course, my dove," she said. "Thank you. Now, coffee?"

"'Course, babe," Clint agreed, sauntering off with another smile. Natasha watched him leave, her heart aching and tears gathering in her eyes. 

She looked down at Bucky, who had sprawled out in her lap while he slept, his head in her lap. She leaned down and gave his forehead a soft, sweet kiss, before stroking his hair and watching the snow fall past her window as she waited for Clint's return.

...

The three of them found a hotel in Moscow for the night, disembarking from the train and heading towards the reservations. The man Natasha knew, thankfully in possession of a plane, resided just on the outskirts of the city; they would go at the break of dawn...but until then, some much-needed rest. Natasha had been running on fumes for the past week tracking Bucky down, and Clint looked as tired as she felt.

"I'm not tired," Bucky said as they dropped their suitcases on the floor of the room. "Go to sleep; I'll be fine. I'll keep an eye on things until either I fall asleep or you both wake up."

"...If you're sure," Natasha agreed. "We are safe."

"If you say so," Bucky murmured, something dark flickering behind his eyes. Natasha nodded, squeezing his good hand comfortingly before kicking her shoes off and crawling into bed. Clint followed suit, but actually undressed, giving Natasha time to drift off as he stretched out before the bed, clad only in boxer briefs and a worn-down undershirt. Bucky had to marvel at the man's lack of shame as Clint grinned.

"Don't worry, Bucky," Clint promised with a yawn, "if somethin' goes wrong, we'll be up as soon as you need us. Phil's had to boot us out of bed at three in the morning before, and we do just fine."

"Phil?" Bucky asked, curious. Clint smiled; Natasha, already asleep, stirred in her sleep long enough to smile in kind, sighing in contentment as she snuggled into the pillow.

"That's him," Clint said, "the man we have waiting at home. Agent Philip J. Coulson, professional badass with a hobby of fanboying on the side. He's...he's our agent. He saved us."

"I see," Bucky replied after a moment's pause, taking in the sheer love in Clint's eyes; enough to move mountains, surely. "And you left him?"

Clint nodded, his shoulders sagging, apparently weighed down by those very same mountains his love had once been enough to move. He turned to Bucky, looking utterly defeated.

"It was safer there," he said. "If he knew we'd fled, Fury would've tortured him to death trying to get Phil to crack. He never would, of course. And we couldn't take him; it would've meant one of our very dear friends would have died as well. So...we left. But we're coming back to him. I won't stand for anything else. He's our Coulson, and I'd do whatever it took to keep him safe. Even...even leave him, for a little while."

Bucky nodded, his bearing hunched and thoughtful as he regarded Clint with a warm hazel eye.

"If you say so," Bucky said. "It must be hard. You have my sympathies."

"He's the strongest man I know," Clint said firmly, "I know he's fine. He has to be. And so we'll be fine too; for his sake." He sighed and gave Bucky a look. "Take a few hours, Bucky; you were passed out on the train for a reason. Really, you're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."

"But what about you two?" Bucky asked. Clint actually grinned.

"Ah, hell, we can take care of ourselves," he promised. "Now go the fuck to sleep, willya? I'll see you in the morning."

He crawled into bed beside Natasha, wrapping his broad, strong arms around her waist and pulling her close against his chest. Natasha didn't so much as stir as Clint buried his face into her hair and fell asleep, his bearing relaxed as his fingers curled loosely in Natasha's auburn waves.

Bucky watched them sleep for a time before looking at the other bed, tilting his head. He took his shoes off and crept slowly towards it, perching on top of the mattress, testing it. It wasn't hard, and there was nothing in it. Just a pillow and blankets.

He wriggled his toes, breathing slowly as he ran his hands over the blankets and relaxed his legs, stretching out over the bed, relaxing inch by inch as he ran a scan over the room, checking it for threats. 

There were none. Nothing was out of place. And two friends slept beside hm.

He was safe.

Bucky grabbed the blanket, wrapped himself up in it, and hit the pillows. He was asleep in minutes.


	26. Robot Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets some help. Darcy is snippy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Darcy is the most fun I can have without making a Panic at the Disco reference. That said, Darcy is like a way for me to let off steam; her dialogue flows so naturally that I feel like she writes herself, lol.  
> And minor Demon in a Bottle reference here, too. Why? I do not know, that arc causes me physical pain. But it's there anyway.  
> Mostly an interim chapter, what the hell. I am so sorry I keep doing this with like all my stuff lately, woops. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

Tony had spent the day with the others, and it wasn't bad; he genuinely liked their company, enjoyed Darcy's smart-ass nature, and was relieved to be around Thor once more. But the itch to get to work had plagued him, and he had retired early, in hopes of getting to wake up to his supplies in the morning.

He was, thankfully, not disappointed; he awoke to Selvig banging on the door of the camper van, calling, "Happy's here with the crates, Stark!"  
Tony immediately got out of bed, dressing quickly and bolting out the door. He ran barefoot across the desert earth, the dust puffing up around his feet as he skidded to a stop and threw his arms around Happy.

"I'm so glad to see you," Tony said, "and not just because you brought me a change of clothes."

Happy laughed, but Tony could feel a few tears leaking into his hair. For the sake of Happy's pride, he didn't bring them up as the larger man pulled away.

"Yeah, Tone, good to see you too," he said. "Pep's okay. Phil...I dunno with that guy. He's...somethin' else. But he's taking care of her."

"I knew he would," Tony said with a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Hap. I just, y'know. Kinda worried. It's been a pretty screwed up few months."

"Yeah, I'll say," Happy agreed. "I was waitin' for you to come back. The house was lonely with me an' Rhodey, and he couldn't really stay long. JARVIS just...sorta gave up."

Tony hung his head and sighed, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I know, Hap," he replied, his shoulders slumped, "I promise, this time we're gonna get rid of S.H.I.E.L.D. once and for all. I'll be back home soon."

"Good, good," Happy said. "Anyways, boss, that's not the point; I brought you your briefcase, a suitcase fulla clothes like y'wanted, all the stuff you asked for, and whatever else Pepper thought you might need."

"Great, thanks...anything else?" Tony asked. Happy shifted from foot to foot, grinning.

"Well, yeah. Just a couple more things. Nothing special. Right, boys?" He called.

Tony froze, not even daring to breathe.

A soft beep, then a little whirr reached his ears as he was grabbed from behind, the back of his shirt tugged on gently as he turned around to face Dummy, Butterfingers, and You, looking down at him.

Tony stared for a second. Dummy waved, his claw opening and closing. You bumped him, his arm vibrating with delight. Butterfingers nuzzled him, whirring contentedly.

He took them all into his arms, his whole body shaking as he clung to them, gripping desperately to their shining metal bodies. Dummy patted his head; You beeped, nuzzling him curiously as Butterfingers patted his cheek.

"Daddy's home," Tony whispered, his voice cracking under the strain. "Hello, boys, daddy's home, daddy's home..."

Dummy wheeled closer, eager for Tony's touch; Tony laughed and hugged him tighter, patting his claw-hand with the same care he would use to caress a lover's cheek.

"Hey, wine rack," Tony said, love making his voice ache. "You boys up for some fun times in daddy's lab?"

They all beeped, eager.

_"Indeed they are, sir. And if they are not, I shall keep them in line, I assure you of that."_

Tony whirled around with a sudden start to see Happy holding up a phone and grinning. He took it into his trembling hands, slowly and carefully cupping it in his palm.

"...JARVIS?" He whispered. "JARVIS? JARV, buddy, that you?"

 _"Indeed, sir,"_ he replied, his voice oddly warm for something so mechanical. _"I have missed you, Anthony. It was hard to rely only on my memory banks to hear your voice. I am grateful you have been returned to me."_

"Yeah, bud," Tony said, tears in his eyes. "Me too. It's okay. I'm home now. I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're all gonna stay right here, the five of us, and set up a lab, and we're gonna get Bruce and Steve back, then go find the terror twins, wherever they fucked off to. Sound good?"

 _"More than perfect, Anthony. I will begin scans on Clint and Natasha as soon as I am up and running on more than Happy's phone,_ " JARVIS said. Tony blinked.

"Wait, shit, you can do that?" He asked. "I don't remember programming tracking into you."

 _"No, sir, but you programmed the Avengers failsafe; in the event any one of the Avengers should fall, I am to step in with what is needed. I have ways to track encoded into my system; I will be able to scan for their location so long as either of them possesses any electronic device. It may take time, but I will track them down and hack my way into whatever system they possess. We can communicate from there_ ," JARVIS said. Tony nodded.

"Okay, that's awesome. Glad I thought of it."

 _"Actually, sir, it was my idea,_ " JARVIS said, amused.

"Well, I'm glad I programmed you," Tony said. "Which still makes it _my_ idea."

He put the phone down and turned to Happy, hugging him tight.

"Keep an eye on Pepper," he said. "Take her out to dinner. Get her to go work at the Stark Industries building so you can look after her. Don't let her go to S.H.I.E.L.D. base any more than she has to. And damn it, Happy...please, just...don't let either of them get hurt. You and Rhodey gotta take care of them, please. I'm not there. I can't."

Happy nodded, ruffling his boss' hair and patting his shoulder before giving him a sharp look.

"I'm gonna, Tone, but you gotta do me a favor too; take care of yourself, all right? None of us are worth much, alive or not, without you to keep things together, Tony. Don't do anything stupid. Doc, dame; let 'im rest, all right?" Happy said, addressing Selvig and Jane. "Thor, buddy, knock him out with your hammer if you gotta."

"I will," Thor said. "Anthony will adhere to a reasonable schedule, given the circumstances. And please, give Pepper and the Son of Coul our love. I miss them dearly, but we will be delivered unto them soon."

"Yeah, they'll be just fine, bud. You all take care of Tony, and check in once in awhile through JARVIS, all right?" Happy said. "Pep said he can't be hacked, and knowing Tone's work, I believe it."

"He's right; JARVIS is basically unhackable. Not even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers can break through his code, and I'm sure they've been trying since they got rid of me," Tony said. "We just need to keep a phone on us—Jane, I need yours and Darcy's, I'll hook them up to JARVIS when I have a moment."

He turned back to Happy and sighed, embracing him one more time.

"Keep her safe," Tony begged. "And Phil, too. He'll need it. He won't admit it, but he will."

"You got it, boss," Happy promised. "Get some work done quick, okay? I wanna see you back home with your feet up in a month, tops."

"Will do, Hap," Tony agreed, a smile on his face as Happy and Thor headed back to the car, discussing a few last-minute plans. Tony surveyed everything before him, JARVIS at his side, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You just behind him.

"All right," he said. "First things first; coffee. Second, a change of clothes. _Then_ we build."

"Can do, captain," Jane said, yawning and stretching out as Tony fled back into the camper van, briefcase in hand, to change clothes.

He came out in a shirt with an AC/DC logo across it, the arc reactor glowing dully beneath. Darcy looked up from her phone and snorted.

"You bitched about a tee shirt and jeans," she said, "and you're just gonna wear a band tee?"

"From before you were born, padawan," Tony retorted. "And it's a tee shirt I spent a lot of money on. Not a tee shirt you must've harvested straight out of Wal-Mart's ass."

"Oh, like _you've_ ever even set a single foot in a Wal-Mart," Darcy said, rolling her eyes. Tony laughed.

"Once," he said. "Thor ran out of pop-tarts at three AM and woke me up in tears over it. I went and got him some more, but the only place open was Wal-Mart. I had to take a god in boxers and a shirt with like eighty cats on it to a fucking Wal-Mart. That? That was when I knew I'd never survive being bankrupt. Not without drinking myself to death in an alley first."

"Christ, you're a disaster," Darcy remarked to Thor as he approached. "You wanna make us coffee, sweet cheeks?"

"I have missed your wit more than anything else, my lady," Thor said with a sigh, "except, perhaps, a particularly harsh blow to the face."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, we could try leaving the snappy retorts to someone born before, like, 100 BC, buddy. Yo, Alpha 5, Wall-E and Hal 9000! You two make coffee?" Darcy asked.

Dummy, Butterfingers, and You looked up, befuddled. Darcy patted them both on the heads and grinned.

"Y'wanna learn?" She asked.

They beeped eagerly and trotted after her, their little wheels trundling eagerly on the desert ground as she made her way over to the coffeepot.

"Get a fire extinguisher," Tony said without even looking up from his work. "And a gun."

"Why a gun?" Jane asked, tilting her head and frowning.

"In about a week with the four of them? You'll want one." Tony said.

Jane just sighed and massaged her temples as the three of them got down to work.

...

Darcy, You, Butterfingers, and Dummy came over ten minutes later with three mugs of coffee. She was beaming broadly; Dummy, You, and Butterfingers beeped, as triumphant as three little robots could possibly be, given the givens.

"So it took them like five tries, but they got it!" She said. "Oh, and the warriors have taken a shine to them. But I told them they were my pet robot dogs, so they had to get their own. You got time to build them some robot dogs, Tony?"

"In between constructing a radiation lab and testing center? Yeah, sure, why not?" Tony said, making a few adjustments to his blueprints with a grease pencil. He already had twenty scattered around him, Erik and Jane taking measurements on the metal and looking over the stacks of lead lining.

"You're the only man I know who isn't joking when he tells me that," Darcy remarked. "Swell, bud. Thanks."

"You're welcome. If it'll keep Larry, Curly, Moe, Xena, and dearest, darling, _destructive_ Thor the hell out of my way while I'm working, I'll build them a robot unicorn." Tony said, giving her a look of exasperation. Darcy stuck out her lower lip.

"Isn't she a total babe, though? C'mon. Eight at least. Nine if you're into muscles. And a ten if you're into a girl who could throw you through a wall," Darcy said.

"Yeah, I went through that with Natasha, and lemme tell you; not all it's cracked up to be, babe," Tony said, adjusting his goggles, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he frowned. "Though I'll definitely grant you an eight. Nine if you're into kinky shit. I bet Asgardians are freaks in the sack, but I've never gotten the balls to ask Thor."

"Probably," Darcy agreed cheerfully. "If we win this, me and Jane are gonna do it with her. She said it's like some weird war trophy crap, I don't care about that, but y'know; something to look forward to after this fuckfest." She frowned, adjusting her hat as she looked over Tony's shoulder. "Any way I can help, bro?"

"You're ten years younger than me; keep calling me bro, I feel younger already." Tony remarked. Darcy snorted.

"Seriously, dude. I'm not Jane, I'm not a fuckin' astrobiologist or whatever, I do political sciences, I was gonna be a diplomat, then all this shit showed up, and now I guess I'm just some god-nanny, but let's be real. I can move shit. I can keep shit in line. And I can make beer runs." Darcy said. Tony nodded.

"Y'know what you can do? Keep the warriors from going stir-crazy. I know that sounds like a shitty job, and it is, but not the way you're thinking of it. I'm not giving it to you to get you out of my hair; god willing, once this is all over, you're going to come down into my lab one day and we'll talk and talk until our acid wit has burned down the lab. Right now though, I need you to keep them from wrecking shit. Take them driving. Get them drunk, far away from here. Enjoy yourselves. And then come home and I promise, your girlfriend will be freed up to make sweet love into the night, but right now, I need both of them. And I need you. Because good fucking Christ, I don't need any of _them,_ " Tony said.

"Did you ever at any time in that speech stop to _breathe_?" Darcy asked. Tony laughed.

"Years of company presentations and talking over idiots. You heading out?" He asked, making the last few adjustments to his blueprints. Darcy nodded.

"Yeah, yeah; I'll take 'em and we'll go do...whatever. Not much around here, but I heard there's some place down south to hang out. A few diners and shit, and they're dressed normal now, so we'll be fine." Darcy patted his head. "Later, Tones. Be back soon."

"Take your phone! JARVIS will contact you when we're done here, all right?" Tony said. Darcy nodded, grabbing it as she yelled for the warriors and Sif to pile into the car.

Before leaving, she gave Jane a long, lingering kiss, full of love and happiness in the way she gripped her hair, held her waist, and nuzzled her cheek as she pulled away. Tony averted his eyes, sighing heavily and getting to work on the lab.

First Bruce, his best friend, his truest friend, the one who understood. Then Steve, darling Steve, his Captain, his hero, the man who healed him. It wasn't much longer until he got kisses like that, too.


	27. Diner Chatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Sif talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what, I'm just going to throw lesbians at you. This is more of an interim chapter than the last one, what the hell. I am so sorry, I'm going to get back to the action soon! I just love writing the Asgardians okay, they're great.  
> Headcanon that Sif and Fandral were bffs even before they met Thor, which is why they're so close here that he can insult her without her breaking his fingers.

Darcy hummed to herself as she pulled into a diner, considering something.

"Did we ever eat breakfast?" She asked. "Tony's got a ton of money, and I grabbed his card, so we can probably eat like kings. Or Volstagg."

"That seems like a good idea," Sif admitted. "Our wares are running low, even taking the veritable banquet we brought with us into account. We have Anthony to account for now as well, and though Thor has told us he has a tendency to neglect meals."

"The horror, the horror," Volstagg remarked, a wry grin on his face. Sif huffed.

"Yes, well; Thor will threaten to hammer him if he does not eat. I was aware someone else was in charge of such things, but he is..." Sif trailed off, hesitant. Darcy shrugged.

"Dead? Big surprise. They killed all my friends," she said. "I didn't have a lot; like, it was really just Thor, aside from Jane and Erik, obviously, but they're alive, and Phil too...but, uh...dead where it counts, if that makes any sense. _Especially_ Phil."

"I can imagine," Sif agreed quietly. "We have seen warriors succumb to such sorrows before. They fight and feast and drink as before, but they are dead where it matters; fled to wherever it is that the souls of grieving lovers go. We can only hope they will return to us, our own souls with them. It...does not often happen. This is a rare and strange occurrence; I have lived more than a thousand years and never encountered something quite like this."

"Well, I mean, you're not supposed to, but Thor godmodded," Darcy said. "These are special people. I guess it means death doesn't apply. Not how we know it, at least." She shrugged. "It's a scary, shitty thought, really; fuck death. Who wants pizza?"

Everyone raised their hands. Darcy nodded, taking the keys out of the ignition and heading inside, whistling a jaunty little tune as she got them a booth. She noticed, more than a little amused, (but hiding it remarkably well, especially for her), that the warriors had given them a wide berth; Sif sat beside her, her hair unbound and falling about her face, and that was all. Darcy began to idly play with her hair, continuing to whistle.

"You're like some sort of kickass Rapunzel," she remarked. "Did you not have time to cut your hair in a thousand years?"

"It is...a matter of pride," Sif replied, her face a bit pink. "When I go into battle, my hair is tied behind me, but long and free. That is a vantage point for an enemy to disarm or stun me using it as a convenient weapon in their favor. Suffice to say, no man has ever gotten close enough."

"Man, you are _hardcore_ ," Darcy said. "Do you just go out for giant military campaigns every Tuesday, or what?"

"Tuesday?" Sif asked, her eyes wide and her head tilted. Darcy shrugged as the waitress approached.

"Don't worry about it, it's not important. Get your Cokes, dudes," she said. "Oh, but coffee for me. I miss non-instant cappuchinos."

"See, there is another thing I do not understand," Sif said as the waitress scribbled down their orders, "why must coffee be foamed at the mouth? Is it an aggressive gesture?"

"Yeah, obviously; it's the coffee of mighty berserkers or...something. Plus you can make cool pictures on it," Darcy explained, trying not to laugh.

"In that case, we'll all have one of those as well," Sif said, in that haughty tone that may or may not have made Darcy's knees—and other, more important places—all a-quiver on more than one occasion. "If they are mighty, I wish to partake."

Tony was going to be _really_ pissed she gave them all caffeine, but really, considering the look on the poor waitress' face, Darcy decided that sort of exasperated befuddlement was worth it in the long run.

"Don't worry, you'll like them," she promised. "Just add sugar. And for god's sake, don't tell Tony. Or Jane."

"I assumed as much," Sif remarked, amused. "Where do we go after this, then, my lady?"

"Uh...well, I wish I could show you cool stuff; like, y'know, New York City or the Rio Grande or something that isn't eight miles of sand and...y'know, dead lizards or whatever. Midgard's kind of awesome sometimes, I promise. But...well, there's not much here, as you can see," Darcy sighed and shook her head. "Is there anything you guys really want to do?"

"You are putting yourself down here rather unfairly," Sif said, her voice quiet. "Remember, Thor arrived here, in a place very similar to this one, and did not find it lowly or primitive or 'boring;' he found a love for this place regardless. I wondered why, for a time, as I suppose we all did...but then I realized how important the people were. Especially in this situation."

She smiled. "My lady, you don't see it, do you? Thor fell in love with this place because he fell in love with all of _you_ ; all these confusing and fascinating Midgardians. So it is not about what you can show us of your achievements; it is what you show us of _yourselves_ that is the most fascinating, I think."

There was a moment's silence while everyone let her words sink in.

"Watch it," Hogun warned, a smile playing across his lips, "you're turning into Loki with this silver tongue of yours."

Sif kicked him beneath the table. Darcy snorted.

"First, Thor loves his hammer, his pop-tarts, and his brother, probably in that order. But, y'know. I'm sure we're on the list somewhere. It's not that, though; I just...y'know. Was hoping we could be a bit more impressive," Darcy apologized. She hesitated as the waitress came back with their drinks, ordering the pizzas quickly—this was not a situation she  wanted to discuss in front of normal people. She had barely enough time to dwell on the bad X-Files episode her life had become before she left, however, and so Darcy was free to continue, meeting Sif's eyes and sighing.

"Look, you're _gods_. Thor said you have this huge-ass magic golden city and a ton of cool shit. And we're just, y'know...we have a talking phone. Big fucking whoop. It's.. _.embarrassing,_ really. Like...going to the cool table on Wednesdays in blue. Or something equally stupid," Darcy explained. "I just hoped we could impress you."

Sif cupped her cheek and smiled. Darcy died a thousand little deaths, each more focused on the feel of her warm, calloused fingers than the last.

"You have," she said, "I can assure you of that, at least. You have. And you have done so much more than that, my lady. You have taught us, and guided us; this is not a world we know, as much as our world is unknown to you in kind. And yet we sit here in one of your halls and eat of your food and remain, to the untrained eye, as normal as can be. That is thanks to you, my lady. Your lover belongs to the stars, to the planets; she looks outward and finds all she can to hopefully supplement what already lies within. You belong to this desert more than you think. You are _inward_ , the lives of humans we have not known in hundreds of years—all of this is paramount in you. The move inward is not so bad; there are thousands of veins. Why not thousands of passages through the self?"

"...So...I'm badass because I can order pizza?" Darcy asked, wrinkling her nose. Sif laughed.

"No, Darcy. You are worthy because you have made a home for yourself with your own two hands, and all that it requires, and then offered to share it with others. You were alone; rather than dwell upon it, you worked your way out of it...and turned back only to proffer your hand to others as well. A light in the darkness," Sif explained.

Darcy stared at her for a second, her eyes big and red-rimmed. Then she buried herself into her cappuchino, foam flecking her lip as she hid her face.

"That's not cool, man," she said, "I'm not gonna fuckin' lose my shit in the middle of a diner."

"I'm sorry if I upset you..." Sif murmured, and the genuine worry and grief in her tone gave Darcy pause. "Please, my lady, forgive me; it was not my intention."

"You're really dumb," Darcy said. "You know what you gotta know about people? You can't tell them really, really nice stuff like that in public and be surprised when they cry."

Sif smiled, her eyes shining and her grin light and easy as she cupped Darcy's face again, running her thumb over the few bright tear tracks that had begun to wind their course across her face.

"Forgive me," she said. "Perhaps that is a thing best left private, then? Truth is sweetest when realized in a place where you may contemplate it."

"What she's saying is get a room," Fandral said. "Sif, by the Allfather's beard, you are a true protege of mine."

"I am no protege of yours, scoundrel," Sif muttered, narrowing her eyes and squaring her shoulders. "I speak the truth, not silky-sweet lies; as silky as those sheets you so enjoy tumbling through."

"You wound me, my dove, truly," Fandral teased. "You're just jealous that I'm better at lying."

"And who among us is behaving more like Loki _now_?" She shot back at her friend, who held up his hands in surrender. Darcy shrugged.

"Y'know, I'm pretty sure you guys should be careful. Thor's...pretty overprotective, and if Loki really is coming down here for a visit, Thor won't hear any of that shit. You know him," Darcy said. "He'll defend someone to the death, even if they really kinda don't deserve it."

"His relationship with Loki is rather... _complex,_ " Sif admitted. "I am trying to remind myself that he is a brother of Thor and that I should try to be more accomodating, but...he is frustrating. A smart mouth, a sharp tongue, and a nasty tendency to find himself in trouble he is largely the cause of."

"So, me, then," Darcy said, quirking an eyebrow. "What's your beef with him?"

"No, not...not like you. Not as kind. Or..." Sif trailed off.

"As female," Fandral finished for her. Sif slugged him in the shoulder and gave Darcy a look of exasperated amusement; Darcy couldn't help but giggle as the pizza arrived.

"He is not as bad as they say," Volstagg piped up as he took a pie for himself, "but he takes some getting used to, and even then, he is like an ill-tempered horse, or one of Frigga's damned cats; as likely to be friendly and useful as he is to scratch your hands or throw you from his saddle."

"So long as he's tame enough not to pee on the carpets, I'm good," Darcy said. "Or wreck Tony's stuff. We _really_ don't need that."

"Aye," Volstagg agreed, "it is important, so Thor and the good doctor have said, but I confess I understand little of it. Is there something you know, my lady? Your beloved is one of the architects behind this; has she shared with you any knowledge?"

"Honestly, this is more Tony's gig right now; he's got to put all this shit together. Jane's actually working on trying to build something for the Bifrost; she knows more about the astrophysics aspect of this than anything...but she said that she wants to make a way to repair the Bifrost so Odin can let more warriors through." Darcy said. They all nodded.

"Clever, then, this maid," Fandral said. "Sif, you are becoming a hoarder of fine young ladies; like a dragon, only less sweet to look upon."

Sif stomped on his foot; Darcy snorted, shaking her head.

"Nah, my point was more that we'll be fine; they've all got this shit under control, I don't honestly know or care much about it. My job is babysitter and robot handler, and I'm pretty cool with that," she said. "You guys wanna go see if there's an arcade around here? I could definitely kick all your asses at _Street Fighter_."

"The mighty warriors of Asgard will never fall to anyone in a fight!" Volstagg crowed, drawing a few odd looks. "I accept your challenge, lady Darcy!"

"After pizza," Hogun said, taking another slice, "I'm finding myself oddly fond of this stuff."

"Isn't it amazing?" Darcy agreed. "Told you, I'm good at this."

Sif just chuckled, watching as her friends feasted and drank, chattering eagerly; she was content to sit back and observe. It was going to be an interesting few days of exploration, she surmised, and she couldn't help but be just a bit excited. The thought of going with Darcy had nothing to do with it.

...

"How in the Allfather's name do these buttons work?" Volstagg roared. "Warrior! Perform your mighty kick once more!"

"Can't, dude, I caught you in a combo," Darcy said, popping her bubblegum. "What was that about not falling in a fight?"

"With swords and shields, not buttons! Buttons are to be sewn on clothing, not used for attack!" Volstagg said. "What in Tyr's name is this warrior's blasphemy?"

 _"Street Fighter_ , I told you," Darcy said. "Now c'mon, you're gonna lose even faster if you don't do somethin'."

"I see no reason I should have another man fight my battles," Volstagg grumbled, "and with buttons, as well."

Darcy tried not to laugh and mostly succeeded.

None of them seemed to quite grasp the concept of video games, but they took to the air hockey table quite well. Well enough that Darcy eventually had to intervene before Sif tried slitting someone's throat with one of the pucks. They took their fights very seriously, as she had found.

Eventually, she shepherded them out the door with the promise of another fun day there, ("So long as it doesn't feature air-hockey related attempted murder," she had said, and she was _almost_ sure they would listen), and stopped at a McDonald's on the way back to their base. She bought at least a good ten bags of fast food, knowing she would be hailed as a hero once she got home with a few Big Macs.

Darcy pulled into the little encampment, getting out of the car and stretching out as the warriors carried the bags of food.

"So, babe, how's the portal going?" She asked, sauntering over to where Jane and Thor sat, talking quietly as Jane scribbled down equations.

"Not terribly, but...for all my scientific capabilities, I have to admit—we're going to need Loki. I can get everything set up, but magic would be invaluable." Jane frowned. "Thor doesn't know when he'll be back, though...nor have we gotten any messages from Odin lately."

"Dude's probably just busy," Darcy said. "It'll be fine, babe, promise."

"The lady is right," Thor agreed. "I would know if my brother was in true danger...he is fine, and safe. Healing as well, though it is a slow process. My mother is surely doing all she can."

"Well, he'll be back soon, I'm sure of it," Jane said. "At least for your sake." She sighed and put her notebook down before perking up suddenly. "Is that McDonalds'?"

"Yeah, I'll take payment in the form of cunnilingus, thanks," Darcy said. "I had to run a drivethrough with all of them."

Jane just ruffled her hair and grabbed a milkshake as Tony sauntered out of the enclosed space he and Erik had begun to build. Darcy was duly impressed; it was already a large lead-lined dome, which, for a day's worth of work, was pretty neat.

"Yeah, I'm amazing," Tony said, preening. "You brought back cheeseburgers? Bless you, kid, I'm starving."

They all relaxed after that, settling in around the fire and scarfing down food, snuggled up in blankets against the cool desert night. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You didn't eat, but Tony performed a few tune-ups on them as he snarfed down cheeseburgers, at least three cartons of fries at his feet.

"So, estimated time, of course, but I'm curious; when is this gonna be done?" Darcy asked. Tony stopped eating, wiping his face with the back of his arm as he put down his screwdriver and gave her a look.

"Uh, best bet? Probably a week. I'd say it would be a bit shorter, but I'd rather not completely fuck the enviroment over by releasing massive amounts of gamma radiation into it, so we have to really re-inforce the lead lining and prep ourselves suits so we're not blasted with it too," Tony said. "Thor, your brother gonna be ready to go by then?"

"I can only hope," Thor replied. "As of right now, I do not know the severity of his wounds. I should think it will not be much longer than that, however. As Jane said, he is eager to rejoin me."

"Good, good," Tony said absently, going back to fiddling with the 'bots, "if we can get the magic rainbow-fixing machine back up while we try to reconstruct the serum...it'd be a big help." He sighed. "That...that might take longer. But for Steve..."

"For your Captain, anything," Thor said. "It is all right, Anthony. He will be returned to you."

"Yeah...yeah, I know," Tony replied, closing his eyes. "It's not a big deal. We'll be fine, in the end." He stretched out. "Gonna go back to work; someone come yell at me around one AM or something. Erik?"

"Be with you in a minute, Tony," the doctor said. "Jane, Darcy, take care of the boys. And Sif, of course. Be careful, all right? We're not far if someone should come looking for us."

"Well, we'd notice them from a few miles away, all things considered, but yeah, sure," Darcy promised. "Go work, doc. The sooner we get our shit together, the better."

"I suppose," Erik agreed, following after Tony. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You beeped, following after him; Darcy stretched out, settling in and wrapping the blanket around her and Jane, yawning.

"So...we'll be okay," Darcy murmured. "Everything's gonna work out? It'll just take time?"

"Yes, of course," Jane promised. "I'll make sure of it, okay?" She kissed her forehead and smiled. "You don't need to worry. I'm going to protect you."

"I know," Darcy mumbled, nuzzling into her shoulder. "Love you too. Night..."

Darcy drifted off on her shoulder quietly, content. Jane stroked her hair until she realized someone was behind her; she blinked, surprised, before turning around to see Sif watching her.

"You need not protect the lady alone," Sif said. "You are a tactician, a brilliant mind...but no warrior. Do not fear. I am, and I will protect you both."

She got them both another blanket and grasped Jane's shoulder.

"Sleep," she said, "I promise, things will be at least a little bit better in the morning."

"Thanks..." Jane mumbled. She wanted to say more, but before she could think to, she was drifting off. Sif just watched them both before shaking her head and smiling, shrugging her shoulders as she went to get herself a blanket. No point in abandoning them both, and besides, the fire was close by. They would all settle themselves in the morning.


	28. Tesseract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Nat, and Clint. A series of odd almosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reason they don't take the thing is because they really don't want SHIELD trying to tail them for, you know, stealing it. That's a lot more noticeable than just testing it on Bucky, who won't even register.  
> And yes, I am cruel. Their reunion will be much better than this!  
> And oops, I accidentally skipped a chapter, but honestly, it works much better this way, and you get a bigger update! So there we go! (I went from a continuation of Clint/Nat/Bucky to shifting back to the Antiguo group. Woops! Again, though, it helps the flow.)

The next morning, Natasha was the first to wake; she looked at Bucky, sleeping peacefully, and Clint, snuggled up against her chest, his fingers loosely entwined in her hair, and couldn't help but smile. She kissed Clint's forehead, stroking his back until he awoke, running his fingers through her hair as he smiled at her, dazed and bleary. Natasha kissed his cheek and sat up, stretching out.

"Come, my doves; the airport is on the outskirts of the city, and it is best we make our way there on foot. Less opportunity for someone to find us," she told them, getting up and getting her boots on as she spoke.

Clint yawned, nodding as he got up. "Are we going, then?" He asked. "I mean...right to New York?"

"If we're lucky; I don't know if or when we'll need to refuel. He's got good planes, modified jets leftover from the days of his KGB work, but...well, it is a long trip. And once we are there, I suggest we take our time; fools rush in. No more than a night or so, but I would rather delay and go in at my peak than go immediately with more risk," Natasha said, getting out of bed as she spoke.

"Understandable," Clint agreed with a yawn. "We'll get ourselves settled in for a night when we're there, but we'll have to be careful; any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent could recognize us."

"This is true," Natasha admitted, "but I believe if we wear something concealing and I pin up my hair...with a hood on, no one should be able to tell. And we would not leave the hotel for much."

"Okay, then; seems solid enough," Clint said. "You wanna wake up Bucky?"

"I will; you dress, my love," Natasha told him. "I'm afraid we don't have time to warm each other up."

Clint smirked, giving her a quick kiss before getting up to dress.

"Pity," he remarked, zipping up his pants.

Natasha gave him a small grin in return before going over to Bucky's bed, standing a few inches away; Clint was curious, but let her do what she needed; he certainly wasn't going to get involved. Natasha knew what she was doing.

"Bucky," she called out softly. "Bucky, it's me, Natasha. Wake up."

He did not stir. Natasha frowned.

"Bucky," she called, a bit firmer, "Bucky, it's Natasha. You must get up, we're leaving."

A shuddering twitch coursed through his body; Clint tensed despite himself, grabbing his knife. Natasha might know what she was doing, but it was still dangerous.

"Bucky!" Natasha snapped. _"Awake_ , Bucky!"

His arm lashed out, the metal whistling as it whipped through the air; Natasha, standing back as far as she was, missed the blow. Clint snarled, until Bucky began gasping, screaming for air as he shook in bed. Natasha knelt beside him, grabbing his hand and holding it tight.

"You're awake, Bucky," she said. "You're in a hotel in Moscow, with friends. You are safe. You are _safe_. Breathe, Bucky."

He took a few shallow gulps of air before nodding, burying his face into Natasha's neck and whimpering. She kissed his cheek, stroking his short brown hair before looking up at Clint. The archer lowered his knife, inclining his head in understanding. The wary fear had left his eyes, to be replaced by pity.

"Hurts," Bucky rasped, "Nat? Nat?"

"I'm here," she said. "Come, Bucky. Get dressed. We're going to the airport."

"Right," he replied, standing up, his legs shaking as he went for his boots. "Right, we're going...going..."

"To New York, Bucky. It's warmer there. We'll be there for a few days." Natasha said. Bucky nodded, pulling his boots on and shivering, teeth gritted.

"I want to go home," he said. "I don't know where it is, though. Nat?"

She wanted to tell him; she wanted to show him the apartment Steve had told her that he lived in, so close to Steve's own. She wanted to bring him home and give him his medals, his photos. She wanted to give him his _brother_ back, the man he had loved more than anyone. But there was a time for such things, and it wasn't now. Not when all of that lay in ruins.

"We'll find it together, Bucky. Soon, soon. Come on, get your bag, Bucky, we're going to the airport..." She told him. Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, I know, doll. C'mon, we'll grab coffee on the way," he said. "You two ready?"

They both looked at each other. Natasha raised an eyebrow; Clint just nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Right, then," Bucky said. "Off we go, I suppose."

The three of them slipped out of Moscow, silent as ghosts in the snow.

...

The trip took an hour of walking; thankfully, they had all abided worse, and talking helped. Bucky relaxed when Clint chattered, which Natasha was grateful for; she was not much up to talking, nor did she know what to say.

Bucky was most curious about Phil, now that the man had become a reality to him; he didn't know him, but he wanted to learn. Clint's reactions must have fascinated him, Natasha supposed...or perhaps Bucky was starting to think, to remember. Clint brought up Phil's obsession with Steve, and for a second, Natasha hoped...but nothing except a small laugh escaped Bucky's lips. They would have to hope for more later, after the Tesseract repaired his mind. All would be well.

Natasha sighed and pulled her coat around her tighter. Every so often, she spoke up; speaking of Phil hurt, but it was a curious pain she kept coming back to despite her misgivings. It felt good to think of him, like probing a wound for infection; there was an ache, but as the pus was pulled free, it ended up being a clean one.

The airport was tiny; when they arrived, the only reason any of them noticed was Clint pointing out the hangar, which Natasha had thought was simply a slightly larger barn. A tiny landing strip, big enough for perhaps one plane, was paved next to it; a little hovel was set up beside the hangar. She approached it, her strides long and her bearing proud as she knocked on the door; twice, then a ten-second pause before the third.

A man clad in worn leather and rough furs answered the door, his beard reaching down past his shoulders. Natasha surveyed him carefully.

"You've let the beard go, Rashnikov," she said. "Pity. You're much nicer looking clean-shaven."

"The compliment is appreciated, Natalia," he replied, his voice rough and hoarse. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm declaring war on a government institution and need to return to New York to break into their facility. I need your plane," Natasha told him.

There was silence for a minute.

Then Rashnikov began to laugh, his sides shaking as he bent over, leaning on his knee for support as he hacked out wheezing, hysterical laughs. He looked up at Natasha, his eyes shining with amusement.

"Ah, Natalia," he said, shaking his head as he continued to chuckle, "ever the Tchaikovsky Terror, aren't we?"

"Tchaikovsky _what?"_ Clint asked, befuddled. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"I used to be a ballet dancer, it's irrelevant," she said. "I need the plane, Rashnikov. My lover thinks me dead. Until I can return to him with what I need in tow, he will continue to believe that—and my lover is not a man who shies away from vengeance."

"Ah, love, any man who could keep you would gladly kill for you. Don't be so surprised," Rashnikov admonished her. "You're still little Natalia, almost smaller than the guns you used to wield, as far as I'm concerned. Regardless...you're as stubborn as you used to be, darling. I can't refuse you. And besides, a war could be interesting. Who's the unlucky target of your wrath?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said. "Former allies. They crossed me. I bite back."

"I figured as much," he said, trying and failing to hide his surprise. "Well...very well, Natalia. If you need a plane, I've got it, and the aviation skills to get you there safely. If you're ready, we'll leave immediately."

She smiled; it was one of her warm, melt-your-heart smiles, and Clint knew it had been chosen specifically to sway the man before them. Natasha played her cards well; the man chuckled indulgently, patting her hair like a loving grandfather before excusing himself to the hangar to refuel.

"Forgive me," Natasha said when he was gone, "I know he is your Coulson too, my dove."

"I'd rather not broadcast to everyone the nature of our relationship. Don't worry, I'm not too hung up on it," Clint said. "You okay?"

"Yes..." Natasha sighed. "I don't...enjoy being the sort of woman a man would kill for. If I mean so much to a man that he would do such a thing...I have put him in danger. If I can help it, I'd rather not put the men I love in danger. It's...why he...he had to stay. I...I did the right thing."

"We did, baby," Clint said as he cupped her cheek and stroked her hair. "It wasn't just you. We made the right choice. Even if we didn't, I'd be just as guilty as you, so hush." He kissed her forehead. "You said it yourself; we'll be with him soon."

Natasha nodded, gripping Clint's hand for support as Rashnikov approached, waving them over towards the plane.

"It's a twelve-hour flight," he said, "but we can manage that. I've made a lot of adjustments to this baby over the years; it'll be a bit cramped, but you three don't mind a bit of crowding, do you?"

"Nah, we're used to it," Clint spoke up. "Been crammed in on fighter jets before with three other guys. Not pleasant."

"Huh. You're him, huh? The hawk who snatched our Natalia up from her nest?" Rashnikov said, looking at Clint like he was seeing him for the first time. Clint grit his teeth, tensing.

"I am," he replied, his hand inching for his knife despite himself. "I snatched her up and carried her to safety."

Rashnikov just tsked, but perhaps seeing the outline of the knife in Clint's jacket pocket, didn't push the matter further. Bucky shot Clint a querying look as he climbed onto the plane; the archer shook his head, his shoulders heavy with a burden Bucky knew had remained there for a long time. He just nodded, inclining his head in respect.

He took a place beside Natasha, but he didn't protest when Clint curled her up in his lap, holding her close, his arms wrapped around her waist possessively. No one would challenge his claim to Natasha, Bucky knew; he had been her soldier, her partner, once upon a dream, and in the realm of ice and snow, the Winter Soldier was king. To the former members of his court, it was only right that the Widow remained his queen. But Clint, who had loved her, who had healed her, who had made that call...

"Thank you," Bucky said to Clint over the hum of the engines, and Clint visibly relaxed. "You saved her. No matter what anyone says."

"Yes, he did," Natasha said, giving Clint a warm kiss. "But you made sure there was something to save. Thank you, Bucky."

"You've done the same," Bucky replied.

She smiled, taking his hand and pulling him closer. Bucky didn't protest, and in fact, shared his spare coat with all of them, wrapping the three up in its bulky depths. After that, the three of them settled in for the long flight, curled up and content.

...

Clint, Natasha, and Bucky found themselves a small hotel room, crashing for the night. The flight had been long, but not as unpleasant as they had feared; hopefully things would continue along that same positive road, especially considering their next task.

Bucky yawned, stretching out in bed and giving them both a look of confusion as they curled up in bed together.

"So, uh...what now?" He asked. "I mean, you can't expect us to just...sorta sneak into a top-secret government facility and haul away a few corpses."

"I don't," Natasha replied, rolling over to look at him. "But I know that place like the back of my hand; I assure you, we will get in and out safely. It will not be a slapdash mission; we know exactly where we are going. Your job is to follow me, take orders, and trust me. For a large chunk of my adult life, that place was home. I swear to you, I know where we are going and what we are doing. Please, Bucky, trust me."

Bucky laughed, clutching the pillow and sighing, his bearing relaxed and his gaze warm as he met her eyes.

"Nat, my dove, I don't think I would have willingly flown halfway across the world in a cramped, cold plane that felt like it was going to drop out of the sky any second if I did not trust you or this mission. I swear, I will go with you tomorrow, and we'll be fine. I won't disobey you." Bucky promised. Natasha smiled, relaxing in bed and settling in.

"Good, good; I know, my Bucky. I should have expected as much from you. As for the mission itself," she said, "it will not be long. I am hoping to be able to get in and out quickly. Clint will act as our eyes from his vantage point and warn us of any other agents; we are going to go at night, so there will not be nearly as many people in the building, but there is always a risk. You and I will locate the bodies and secure them—after that, we have to find a few more items regarding the resurrections, the Phase 2 program, and, if we are lucky, our friends' weapons." Natasha finished. Bucky nodded.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "So, uh...until then, what do we do?"

Natasha smiled and turned off the light, settling into bed beside Clint.

"Enjoy the city," she replied. "We will not leave until later in the evening. Until then, we shall have a bit of fun."

Bucky grinned in the darkness. Natasha just smiled in kind, curling up and kissing Clint's cheek before the three of them finally drifted off to sleep, eagerly awaiting tomorrow.

...

If he had only.

That was the kicker, really. If he had only taken that left turn. If he had only gone to get takeout from the Chinese place instead of ordering pizza. If only he had run in for a coffee at the Starbucks the next street over.

Clint and Natasha walked the streets of New York, the same as Coulson. When he awoke that morning, urging Pepper out of bed and getting them both dressed and out the door, the two of them were awake as well, and doing the same for Bucky. They made breakfast together; Coulson had made toast, whereas Clint and Natasha had settled for simple cups of coffee, but the three of them had looked out onto the same skyline and thought of the other as they did so.

That morning, back at S.H.I.E.L.D., Phil typed up his reports and did all his work, thinking only of the two of them. As they walked around the city, they thought only of him, seeing him in every familiar bookstore, in the places they had once been together. He walked with them when they walked here, and it was a uniquely agonizing kind of comfort to feel that way.

The two of them almost passed him so often that fate must have been saving their meeting for another day, another time, because being kept deliberately apart that long was simply brutal. Coulson would turn left; they would turn right. He would go into the next coffee shop over, while they would save it for later.

When he went home, he would have met them there, standing at his doorstep, so eager to be home, if not for the plain, simple truth that the two of them had considered it and judged a return home far too painful. They did not know what to do with the fact that they had come back to New York, that there was a house they had known once waiting here for them. They did not think it _safe_ , true, but that was a worthy risk for their Coulson. The truth was that it would have simply hurt too much, risk aside.

And so he had come home that night with Pepper, never knowing his darlings had stood at his doorstep and wept, too afraid to go in and too scared to move, paralyzed with the fear that they would never see him again.

Eventually, they had promised themselves as they left, still weeping, Bucky gathering them both into his arms, confused but concerned, eventually they would be with him again. It would not be much longer until he could be with them. Once everything was set to rights, they would have him again, and never let him go. All would be well.

As Clint and Natasha slipped into their gear, Bucky suiting up beside them as they prepare to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that night, Coulson sat up in bed and stared out at the city skyline, frowning. Pepper stirred beside him, rolling over to look at him, curious.

"Phil? Is something the matter?" She asked.

Coulson sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Back when...when my darlings and I ran missions, we'd..." Phil paused, searching for a way to explain it. "There was this feeling in the air when we were about to set off. It was confusing; it wasn't quite adrenaline, and it wasn't quite fear. They were just...well, we were all just kind of...alive. More aware of _everything_. And that included each other."

"So...you feel them now or something?" Pepper asked, sitting up in bed and putting a hand on his shoulder. Phil nodded.

"Yeah, kind of. It's not like I know they're there or anything, but I just...feel that same sort of, well, alive-ness coursing through me. Like...like they're on a mission again." Coulson closed his eyes. "But I'm not there. I can't be there. Wherever they are, alive or not...they're gone."

"They'll come back for you, Phil," Pepper promised, her voice soft. "No matter what happens, they'll come back for you. You're their agent, their lover. They could never leave."

She took his hand and kissed his cheek. "It's okay. Maybe that's what this is; a mission to come home."

"It's a lovely thing to think about, isn't it?" Coulson murmured.

Pepper just held him tight, pulling him close and gently urging him to sleep. It took a long time, and in truth, even after he closed his eyes, his thoughts still roiled and churned with the idea that somewhere, far away from where he was, his lovers were alive, on the hunt...and maybe, in his wildest dreams, coming home to be with him.

...

Not ten miles from where Phil Coulson slept, Clint readied his bow and stood on the balcony of the closest building to the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex he could find. All his appreciation for a distant, stealthy nest aside, Natasha might be in danger, and a quick response was what mattered tonight.

Briefly, he considered if Phil was staying late at work tonight. He couldn't imagine his lover was keen on doing that much anymore, but...what if he was? What if he came down and found Natasha?

Clint shuddered, shaking the thoughts out of his head. No; best not to dwell on it. He had to stay steady. Phil always shook him up, inside and out. 

He breathed slowly, meditating as he kept a close eye on Bucky and Natasha. Not much longer. He would see Phil soon; kiss him, love him, take him and be with him again. He just had to hold on. Bucky and Natasha needed him.

From inside the labs, things were terribly quiet. Infiltrating hadn't been a problem, but the lab had never been one of Natasha's favorite places, and when it was quiet as well as pale and sterile, the only things throwing light around the room being the eerie glow of one machine or another, pulsing like heartbeats, her dislike of the place simply intensified.

"Quickly," she murmured, "they are surely being held in the next room; it's where they conduct their biochemistry studies." 

Bucky nodded, following after her silently; they were like ghosts, keeping in careful step with one another despite the fact that Bucky had never even seen this place before. They worked in sync as Natasha unlocked the door and headed into the depths of the biochemistry section of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s labs, frowning as she looked about.

"I do not see them," she murmured. "I see where the containment chambers might have been...but no chambers." 

She looked about, hesitant. Something had gone wrong already; not a good sign. The place seemed empty, but that was never a guarantee there was no trap.

Bucky looked over at the desk on a whim; curious, he picked up a file and skimmed it.

"Nat, come here," he called, "I think you really need to see this."

She followed after him, leaning over his shoulder and skimming the file. Once she had finished, her eyes widened, and she looked up at him, befuddled.

"But... _how_? And who would _take_ them...?" She trailed off. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. There are still things we need to get and information we must gather. Come on, Bucky."

He nodded, following after her as she made her way through the room. If Steven was ever to be revived, she would need to gather the blueprints of the Vita-Ray machine; of course, the only existing copy remained in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands. This was easily remedied, thankfully, and she snatched up a few radiation-related blueprints as well, for Bruce's sake, before the two of them slipped out of the room.

"One last thing," she murmured. "Bucky, come with me. There's something I need you to get."

It was deep down in the bowels of the labs, and they needed to traverse quite a few sets of stairs, but that was perhaps for the best—if Bucky started to panic, no one would hear him that far down deep into the facilities.

Natasha came to a stop in front of its containment chamber, carefully watching Bucky's face. The only thing showing across it was an odd glimmer in his eyes, shining with the light of the Tesseract.

"This is pretty weird," he said. "So, it's an energy source?"

"Yes—we've been powering things on it for awhile. Phase 2 especially, but that's...a long explanation we don't really have time for, to be honest. I need to test something, however, before we make plans to take it for ourselves later on; Bucky, grab it for me, please." Natasha said. "It will recognize my fingerprints and register me as having been here—your prosthetic, however, will not register."

"I see," Bucky said, tilting his head and observing the cube. "Well...all right, Nat. If that's how you think we're getting out of here okay."

Natasha had a split second to watch him grab it before everything fell apart in front of them.

Bucky's eyes began to glow blue and he spasmed, screaming in agony as he clung to the Tesseract, shaking and groaning in pain as the bright, cosmic blue began to seep into his skin and make him shine. 

He spasmed once more before slumping down to the floor, groaning in agony. 

Natasha might have panicked a bit more had his last word before blacking out not been, "S-Steve...?"

She looked around and sighed, throwing her hands up in the air before giving in to the inevitable. It was not graceful, but they had gotten what they needed, and getting out quickly was key.

Natasha hefted Bucky over her shoulders and started walking, making her way out of base with her best friend slumped over her shoulders. Not once did she stumble.

Clint met her outside, raising an eyebrow as he regarded Bucky; Natasha rolled her eyes and tried not to smile.

"The Tesseract worked," she said, "and we've got some info but no bodies. They were apparently stolen..." She shook her head and sighed. "Doesn't matter. We should get back to the hotel; we leave for New Mexico in the morning."

"From Russia to the desert. Thanks, babe," Clint said. "Want me to carry him?"

"No, I can handle it. We could definitely use a few drinks, though. If you'd be so kind as to keep an eye on him when we get back so I can go?" Natasha asked. Clint beamed, nodding in agreement as the two of them high-fived, sauntering home, Bucky sleeping peacefully on her shoulders.


	29. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Natasha talk. Clint finally gets himself a beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to shortify this one, but it's another scene change next chapter! Hope you enjoy.

Clint curled up on the bed, watching Bucky sleep as Natasha went out to snag them a bottle of vodka. The man looked genuinely at ease—something Clint hadn't seen in his bearing or on his expression since he'd met him. He suspected Natasha hadn't either.

He wondered what was going through Bucky's head now, after apparently the Tesseract making contact had ended up as a success. Did he remember everything? Because, truthfully, that wasn't all positive—wasn't all just Steve and the Commandos, which must've been sunshine and rainbows compared to what Natasha had told him about. What sort of man would he be dealing with when he awoke?

Clint shuddered despite himself. He could only hope Natasha would be home by the time that happened; she knew how to calm Bucky down much better than Clint ever could. That would settle the whole "traumatic flashback" issue, but...well, even then. Bucky was going to be a mess.

"Hey," he murmured before he could stop himself, "it's all right. Steve made it out just fine. He's a little confused still, but he's still...y'know, a good guy. He takes care of the team, and Tony especially. He hasn't changed. And all he's gonna care about is seeing you again, okay?"

Bucky didn't stir. Clint just sighed, rolling his eyes at himself. Really, like he had thought that would do anything? Ridiculous.

In his sleep, Bucky was plagued by fear and pain—not nearly as much as before, but enough. His thoughts were heavy and bore decades of grief, of fear and sorrow and Steve, his brave brother Steve who had fought so hard and lost so much...

From above him, there was light. There was warmth and words above him, and though Bucky didn't understand a single one of them, he felt them take some of his burden away, scattering it to the winds as he slept.

In his sleep, Bucky smiled.

...

Natasha came back twenty minutes later with a bottle of vodka and a case of Clint's favorite beer; dark and malty, so brown it was almost black as he cracked it open and started chugging, sighing with relief at the sting of the alcohol. He'd had nothing to drink but vodka for the past two months, and while he didn't _hate_ it, per se, they were reaching the point where he would've gutted a man for a nice draft.

Natasha smiled, rolling her eyes and huffing despite the quirk to her lips, as Clint belched, grabbing another beer and raising it in a salute.

"To successful break-ins and fixing up your buddy with a magic glowy box," Clint slurred. "And good beer. Fuckin' love good beer."

"If you wake up with a hangover on me tomorrow, I'll slap you," Natasha said, her voice pleasant and loving as she sat beside him, wrenching the top off the vodka and drinking it from the bottle. Clint snorted.

"Fuckin' savage," he teased, going to take the bottle from her—she growled at him and he pulled his hand away. "Anyways, _Tony,_ you know I don't get drunk easy. We'll be on our way to Buttfuck Nowhere, New Mexico, faster than you can say 'put that vodka back where it came from or so help me,'" he promised. Natasha rolled her eyes and continued to drink.

"Tony prefers whiskey, scotch, and rum, not vodka," she said, "and I am not an alcoholic. I am, in fact, Russian. There is a _significant_ difference."

"You _were_ Russian," Clint teased, and she smacked him. The two ended up tussling playfully on the floor, alcohol forgotten in favor of rolling around and kissing each other in between swats and nips.

Unbeknownst to them, so lost were they in the enjoyment of their game, Bucky stirred, sitting up in bed. He looked around, before catching sight of what was on the floor. He smiled despite himself, getting up and going over to the nightstand.

The two of them looked up to see Bucky standing over them, a beer in hand. They froze, Clint's hand up Natasha's shirt and her hand down his pants in kind.

"Missed this stuff," Bucky finally remarked after another moment of horribly awkward silence. "You'd be amazed what you've gotta do in Russia for a beer. Would've killed a man at some point if we didn't take missions abroad."

"You have my sympathies," Clint agreed, getting up and putting a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You okay?"

Bucky's eyes flashed, but Clint stood firm; Natasha got up and stood beside him, concerned. 

"...Fine," Bucky said. "No better than fine. But...I'm not gonna fall to pieces. If I do, I'll shatter, and there's too many sharp bits to do that; I'd never fix myself up again." He looked at Natasha, his eyes horribly, agonizingly tender, full of pain and tears. "Just, uh...one thing."

He embraced her; it was awkward but loving, and he kissed the top of his head as he murmured, "I'm sorry about St. Petersburg."

Natasha was quiet. She thought only of madness and the gun, for a time. 

"It wasn't your fault," she said. "You snapped. There was nothing to be done. And you put the gun down, in the end. I forgive you. I had forgiven you years ago."

"Yeah, but I didn't remember," Bucky said. "It's different when I can't remember. I'm...sorry, Nat. You deserved better."

"But you were my partner, and I wanted no other. There was no man like you in that place, Bucky. No one else I'd have rather been with. Broken or not." Natasha gave him a stern look. "Now, do you remember him?"

"How could I ever forget?" Bucky asked, his voice heavy with tears and pain. "God, I'm sorry, I just..." Bucky shook his head. "D'ya think he'll..."

"Do I think the Captain will forgive you? You are his _brother_ , Bucky. What do you think?" She demanded.

Bucky nodded, sitting down on the bed, like the weight of more than half a century had broken his will to stand.

"Right," he mumbled. "Sorry, sorry. We'll...see him again soon?"

"As soon as we are able," Natasha said. "Rest now, both of you; we must leave before dawn. If S.H.I.E.L.D. should find us, we need to flee the city as soon as possible." 

The two of them nodded, settling in for a few hours of uneasy sleep. Bucky trembled on his bed, shaking his head; with a sigh, Natasha beckoned him over.

"No, my dove," she said with a soft croon, "you are not going to rest alone tonight. I do not think your mind would allow it. Come here."

Bucky crawled in between her and Clint, still shaking. Natasha pecked his forehead as Clint squeezed his hand, the two of them providing a warm, stable anchor for Bucky to cling to in his dreams. 

...

The three of them stirred awake a few hours later, packing their things and slipping out silently, making their way downtown, towards the train station. It was secluded, and while it may not be as fast, it was better than a plane—at least, until they got away from New York. Natasha knew someone in South Carolina who owed her a favor; he, thankfully, had a plane as well—a holdover from his days in the Air Force. Natasha tended to pick the men she gave favors to especially well. 

The train ride would take them about ten hours; the plane ride to New Mexico, another eight. They would hopefully be there by that night, considering the current time, and in a position to start snooping around for signs of Jane Foster.

The only people in the station were a few wayward businessmen and some quiet tourists; Clint paid for their tickets and came back, kissing Natasha on the cheek.

"We've got fifteen minutes," he said. "Good timing, I guess; c'mon, we really should go."

The two of them nodded, getting on the train quickly and quietly, settling their belongings in and curling up against one another. Natasha stroked her boys' hair and smiled soothingly.

"Try to sleep," she advised them. "You know you want to be well-rested for this. I'll be here for you both."

"Okay," Clint promised with a yawn, "but you're gonna get a turn to nap soon too, okay? I'd feel really bad if I didn't let you rest a bit."

"Of course, my dove," Natasha murmured. "I will, I will. But for now, you two need your sleep. Rest. I am here, I swear. No harm will come to you."

They both curled up with a content smile, closing their eyes and letting her stroke their hair until they fell asleep.

She sighed and stayed awake, keeping her watch over the two of them as she looked out the window. It had begun to rain, washing away all the dirt she could see on the window. She hoped that might be a good omen.


	30. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work and planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the short update, but the next one is long due to its subject matter! Don't worry~!  
> Yes, I really like Maria Hill as a morally grey Well Intentioned Extremist for her lover's sake. It's fun to play with.

Later that morning, two things happened.

The first, Coulson awoke and went to work, Pepper at his side, only to find the whole place a mess; he blinked, befuddled, and was about to ask when Maria barked, "Coulson! Over here!"

He came to stand beside her, raising an eyebrow. "So, what's all the fuss?" He asked, surveying the bridge. "Don't tell me the training room schedule caused all this. I told you I'd have that by today."

"Someone compromised Phase 2," Maria snapped, "and the Tesseract's been disturbed. On top of that, some very important documents were stolen—documents on the super-soldier serum and gamma radiation. Sound familiar, agent?"

Coulson didn't so much as dare to breathe.

"Search the house if you like, Commander," Pepper said, her voice smooth and pleasant despite the knife-edge Phil could hear lurking beneath it. "Check the cameras, even. Phil and I watched television, filed paperwork, and went to bed. That was all." She jutted her chin out, giving Maria a sharp, haughty gaze. "If there's a war going on, we're sure as hell not a part of it. We left to _stop_ getting ourselves involved with that sort of thing, or have you _forgotten_?"

Maria's hand twitched, as if she ached to do nothing more than backhand the other woman. Pepper just stared her down, her entire body as taut as a tensed wire. If one thing went wrong, Phil knew she would snap—which meant he had to diffuse the situation.

"Commander, you have our permission to search the house, but whatever's going on, we're blameless, I assure you. Neither of us have the technological skill to assemble either a serum chamber or a radiation testing facility. Besides, what would we _do_ with them? Whoever stole the bodies, it certainly wasn't us. You know that," Coulson said. "Forgive Agent Potts, neither of us have had our morning coffee yet. I'll see to her."

Maria was observing him, quiet, her eyes blazing. Coulson's face remained placid.

"...You do that," she said. "And keep your hands clean, agent. Don't overstep yourself."

"Of course," Phil remarked, smiling despite the air of dryness about him. "Until then, Commander."

He saluted her stiffly and left, Pepper in tow.

"I'm going to gut her one day, I swear to god," Pepper grumbled, her eyes narrowed and her bearing fierce. "She's as bad as him, Phil."

"No, she isn't," Phil sighed. "I know Maria. She and I ran a lot of missions together. She's...conflicted. But she's not capable of making the better choice here. Even though this hurts her, she'll stay."

 _"Why?_ " Pepper demanded. "Who could be that stupid?"

"A lover, scared for her partner," Phil replied. "Victoria is her number-one concern, aside from being Director, and Fury wouldn't kill her if she ran. Just Victoria. This is easy, she can bear the pain, she'll be Director one day, which is a good way to lend credence to her personal lie that she can change things, and Victoria will live. Victoria will be _safe_. As safe as any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent could ever be, of course. Do you understand?" 

Pepper paused, frowning as she pulled her hair up, following Phil into his office.

"I suppose," she grumbled, "but I don't like it."

"Well, no one does, but we all have ways to cope," Phil said. "Come on, let's get what we have to do done, Pep; I was planning to go out to eat tonight, and we can't do that if we're working until nine."

Pepper nodded, giving him a look of understanding as they settled in to file some reports.

...

The other thing that happened was Darcy awaking to the sound of explosions.

"Fucker," she grumbled, getting up off the chair she had been sitting in, Sif and Jane stirring beside her, befuddled, "Tony! Hey, Tony! Yeah, I know it's you! What the fuck do you think you're doing, moron?"

"Had to blow a few holes in the ground," Tony said, leaving the radiation chamber with a pleased grin on his face, "we wanted to basically make a lead bubble for environmental health reasons. I don't need Al Gore on my ass for trying to resurrect my best friend."

"Okay, whatever, but a little warning before you decide to play _Dig-Dug_ ten feet away from us? Christ." Darcy grumbled, shaking her head and stretching out. Tony laughed, ruffling her hair.

"Sorry, sorry; I'll make it up to you with a McDonalds' run, how's that sound? Worked all night, I could use a damn break." Tony said. Darcy nodded.

"Rad," she agreed, "let's go get ourselves some coffee and pancakes."

"Who the hell says ' _rad_ ' in this day and age?" Tony said, walking with her to the car. Darcy rolled her eyes.

"Yo, sunglasses and a leather jacket stopped being cool back in, like, the Nineties, dude," she said. Tony rolled his eyes.

"You shut your post-modern mouth, young lady. Sunglasses and a leather jacket are always great. Especially when we're in the middle of a  _desert,_ " He retorted. Darcy nodded.

"Okay, fair. But you're still a loser," she said. "You should be glad you have me around to gently humiliate and belittle you towards the path of enlightenment."

"Excellent," Tony grumbled, trying not to laugh and failing as the two of them drove off to make a breakfast run.

Jane watched them leave before sighing and turning to Erik. The doctor looked as worn out and exhausted as she felt.

"Any luck on the radiation chamber?" She asked. Erik shrugged.

"Tony's a genius, which is speeding things along, and the fact that it only needs to be about twenty square feet helps...but we won't have anything operational for another week or more unless a miracle falls into our laps," he said. "There are some key parts missing, knowledge-wise, and since neither Tony or I can fill in the gaps, we have to build around the pitfalls, which is eating up time." He sighed. "Nevermind that; how's your bridge-repair going?"

"Pretty well, actually," Jane admitted, "it's not perfect, but coupled with Mjolnir's magic, and, hopefully, Loki's own...we should at least have _that_ up and running shortly."

"Any word on the trickster?" Erik asked. Jane shook his head.

"No, but Thor's hoping. It's been about a week—he's expecting Loki healed shortly. Seven days of healing for the seven days of vigil." She frowned. "Yeah, it really has been like...what, five days?"

"Six today," Erik said. "This is going faster than I thought...but not fast enough, if S.H.I.E.L.D. gets wind of this."

"Well, let's just...hope they don't, I suppose," Jane said. "I mean, what else can we really do?"

"Not much, you're right there," Erik agreed. "It's going to be okay, though, I promise you that. I'm not letting you come to any harm, I swear."

"Thank you, Erik," she murmured. "Come sit down, okay? We're going to eat soon, and you've been on your feet all night."

"That I have," Erik said, sinking down into the nearest chair with a grateful sigh. "Back to work again in an hour or so. There's so much to be done..."

"Yes, there is," Jane agreed, "but the payoff will be worth it."

"We can only hope," he murmured.

Jane just tried not to shudder.


	31. Desert Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few friends have a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a cruel cliffhanger, but so worth it. I promise.

Natasha kissed Bucky's cheek as she urged him and Clint awake, her voice soft and soothing as she whispered in their ears to awaken. They both stirred, rolling over to look at her, their eyes wide with curiosity as they stretched out to touch her; to hold her hand or grasp her cheek, to know they were with Natasha and were safe. 

Natasha smiled and kissed them both; Bucky's forehead, once, before kissing both of Clint's cheeks, cupping his chin and tilting it up. He smiled and rubbed noses with her, climbing out of the train car and following after the two of them as they slipped out.

"It's not far; still, we should probably get transportation," Natasha said. Bucky snorted.

"You know how hard it is to find a cab in the middle of nowhere? What're we gonna do?" He asked. Natasha smiled as they left the station, heading for the car garage, dull streetlamps sputtering to life above them.

"Why, dove, you act as if we have never stolen a car before," she said, slinking to the back of the garage as they walked. Clint and Bucky shared a grin and waited. 

After ten minutes, they heard the quiet purr of an engine; Natasha pulled up to their side in a sleek vintage Impala, glistening black under the dull lights of the garage. Bucky and Clint bumped fists and shared a grin, swinging into the car and snuggling in the backseat, curling up against another as Natasha patted both their heads and peeled out of the garage, the tires squealing on the pavement.

The three of them drove for a time, the dust of the roads scattering beneath their wheels as they drove forward, heading wherever Natasha took them. Clint and Bucky talked in the backseat, their voices a quiet chorus of comfort as Natasha continued forward, the night growing darker and darker as she went forward.

Eventually, they swung into a small dirt lot, a tiny farmhouse next to the lot. Natasha sighed with relief.

"He's still there," she said. "That would be his car."

"Do we gotta get out?" Clint mumbled, yawning and stretching out. Bucky nodded, opening the door and clambering out to stand beside Natasha. Clint slipped out quietly, slinking to her side; every muscle was tense, his eyes bright with worry and wary anger. Natasha put a hand on the back of his neck.

"He is a good man," she said. "Relax. He was a soldier I knew. Offered him a way out of the life he had found himself in. He will help us."

Clint nodded, though he didn't quite calm down; she could feel his muscles twitching beneath his placid skin. Natasha kissed his cheek, stroking his hair and cupping his chin carefully, rubbing his back as they approached the steps.

The door swung open before they reached it, a weary-looking man standing in the doorway. His hazel eyes widened at the sight of the woman approaching him, but he said nothing. He simply opened the door wider so they might step through.

"It's been awhile, Natasha," he said as they sat down at his kitchen table. She smiled.

"Yes, it has, David. How is Hal?" She asked. He inclined his head, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

"Fine, fine. Busy as ever. Can I make you tea?" He said, turning back to the cabinets. Natasha shook her head.

"We will not be long. I have a favor to ask of you," she said. "Friends of mine are in danger. I need to get to New Mexico, and quickly. Please, David. I don't beg, but..." She sighed. "They could be killed, and I don't have any other options."

David put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Clint snarled before he could stop himself; David threw up his hands in a gesture of deference, backing away.

"Sorry," he said. "It's all right. I'm not gonna hurt her."

"Clint!" Natasha snapped. Clint growled, but nodded with a sigh and settled in after a tense moment, his shoulder bones popping as he settled in.

"Sorry," he muttered, a quiet, half-forced apology, "I just...panicked."

"Understandable. You've been out on the run for awhile, right? She's your lady, it's only natural." David nodded, turning back to the cabinets. "Tea, now; I'll put the kettle on while I set up the plane. We'll have a cuppa then go, all right? Y'all need to eat."

"You—" 

"You've been watching her like a hawk since you two came in. I guessed, but I'm a soldier, boy; I guessed right." David put water in the kettle, letting it boil as he went to go refuel and start the plane.

"Sorry, Nat," Clint said when he was gone. "I just...got scared, I guess." 

"It's okay," Natasha murmured. "His lover was put in severe danger plenty of times. He understands. Just...be careful, my love. We'll be okay. You have to be careful, though; we need allies, my little hawk."

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have gotten all growly. You're my big brave girl. I know you can take care of yourself," Clint murmured. "Love you, Nat."

"And I love you, my little hawk," Natasha replied, a tiny smile on her face as she kissed his forehead. "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," Clint said after a moment's pause. "Just...got a little carried away. It won't happen again. I promise. Bucky'll be cool too, right?"

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, lifting his hand in a little salute. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth...or spook it away, in this case." 

"Sorry, sorry," Clint sighed, leaning his elbows on the table. "We'll be okay, promise. I mean...y'know. We'll be among friends soon, and I can relax."

"We all can, my love," Natasha promised. "Bucky, I promise, we are going to meet good people. All will be well."

"I trust you, Nat," Bucky replied, leaning his head on his chin and looking out the window. "We'll be fine, I know that. But I'd like to just...y'know, start working. We've got a mission  still, don't we?"

"Yes," Natasha murmured. "Right now, we need to find out who took our friends...and figure out a way to revive them. I was hoping Jane Foster might have some solutions...at the very least, it is a safe place to rest. That, I believe we all need."

"We do," Bucky agreed, almost grudgingly, "but...this isn't going to be an easy mission. And...and..." He closed his eyes, gripping his hand over them as he shuddered.

"I didn't want to ask," he said, "but I have to know. Is...is he..."

Natasha put a gentle hand on his cheek.

"He is," she murmured. "It is why we ran. Because we could not bear this any longer." 

A sob ripped its way from Bucky's throat. Natasha held his hand, allowing him to weep openly, bitter tears seventy years in the making pouring down his cheeks as he whispered Steve's name, shaking his head.

"I want him _back,_ " he finally moaned, agony ripping through his words, "please give him back to me, Natasha, please..."

"Soon, Bucky," Natasha promised. "We will bring them all home. And Steven has missed you so dearly. More than I can even explain. Truly, he will forgive you all your sins, your mistakes. He is your brother. He will take your ledger and he will burn it. There will be no more red, Bucky, I swear to you."

Bucky nodded, wordlessly shaking in her arms. Bucky buried his face into her neck after a few moments. She held him as best as she could, her grip strong as he broke beneath her. 

Across the room, the teakettle began to whistle. 

Clint got up and turned it off just as David came back inside, a rag hanging over his shoulder.

"Tea first," he said. "Tea and some nice cookies. Then we'll go, I promise." 

"Thank you, David," Natasha said, standing up to go get the plates. "It's much appreciated."

"Least I can do, Nat," he replied, gracious as he accepted the plates from her and set them down on the table. "You've helped me a lot; I owe you more than I could repay."

"You're helping us save my friends," she said. "That is more than enough. Thank you."

"And the tea, don't forget the tea," Clint piped up. Natasha chuckled.

"Yes, that's true," Natasha said, a relaxed smile on her face. "Tea would be lovely. And most welcome, considering we're probably going to go without such peace for awhile."

The three of them nodded, somber as they drank, quietly sipping at the tea David poured, the teabags still in the cups. They had about a half hour's worth of peace before the cups were empty. David stood with a sigh, beckoning them forward.

"Ready to go, boys and...well, girl?" He asked. Natasha looked at her boys and nodded, her jaw firm and her shoulders set as she walked outside.

"Yes," she said, "we are."

"Good, good. Everyone get in; can't promise a comfy ride, but I know this plane. Promise you're safe," David said. 

"We've dealt with worse," Natasha said. "In Siberia, in fact."

"I see," David replied. "You have my sympathies, Natasha." He patted the indicators, the fuel gauge blinking as he smiled back at them. "You all ready to go?"

They all curled up next to one another, looking up at him and nodding in unison. David chuckled and started the engine, sending them speeding down the runway and towards New Mexico.

Natasha watched the night sky race up to meet them and couldn't help but smile, her eyes wide and sprinkled with the stars she regarded with a warm, hopeful gaze.

All would be well. Not yet, but soon.

...

Tony and Erik worked throughout the day, Jane and Thor working on the bridge-repair machine. Thor seemed tense, restless; Jane assumed it was about Loki, but knew for Thor's sake it was best to keep quiet. She just remained close to him, silent support. Thor's occasional smiles helped her hope it might be enough.

Darcy and the warriors showed up as twilight began to spread across the sky, like paint seeping into a canvas. They had brought back food with them, and Darcy brewed coffee for everyone, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You helping as much as they could, arranging cups and pouring the drinks as Darcy added cream and sugar.

Tony and Erik emerged from the radiation site awhile later, stuffing food into their mouths as soon as they could grab it. Darcy chuckled, sipping her coffee.

"Good to see you both, babes," Darcy said, her voice warm. "Want a drink?"

"I could use one, yeah," Tony said; she passed him a coffee with a grin. 

"Anything interesting happen?" Darcy asked, plying him for answers.

"Not really, no," Tony said, yawning as he stretched out and sat back down. "We're in the last few stages, but there's still things missing, and a lot I wanna try to piece together...which means construction has to halt for a bit." He frowned. "Not a big deal, but...not my most favorable outcome, either."

"Yeah, I hear you..." Darcy sighed, ruffling his hair gently and letting him relax. "It'll be okay, Tony."

They all drank and ate in relative silence after that, until suddenly, a low, mechanical whirr could be heard, increasing in a crescendo as it approached.

"What is that?" Darcy yelled as the noise began to increase. Tony squinted.

"A plane?" He called back, befuddled. "Why is it here...?"

Regardless of whether or not its intentions were clear, the airplane began to sink lower and lower, until it was mussing their hair in its wake. It landed a distance away; the warriors snarled, readying their weapons in anticipation of an attack, and Thor's skin had gone storm-grey. 

Before they could start a fight, Tony and Thor heard a familiar voice, freezing them to the spot.

"Tony! Thor!"

The figures running towards them became much clearer as the night fell away from them, letting the light of the fire warm them and show them clearly.

Tony and Thor stared.

Without a word, Thor dropped his hammer and embraced Clint and Natasha, beaming.

"It's a long story," Natasha murmured, "but we're home now. With...with a friend."

Tony's eyes widened as she stepped away, letting the man behind her face the light. He was a bit more worn, a bit more weary, but Tony knew that face. Steve had shown him the photos, spoke to him softly of his pain. He knew that person.

"Bucky?" Tony whispered _. "Bucky?"_

He nodded, proferring his arm for a moment before jerking it away, hunching his shoulders. All his body language spoke of hesitancy and fear; hunched chest, turning inward, but there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes when he looked at Tony.

"Hey," Bucky mumbled. "Good to meet you."

"My name's Tony; Tony Stark," he said. "There's...probably a few things I should tell you. But first..." He smiled. "Steve missed you so much. It's okay though. He'll be back soon."

Bucky nodded, numb. He looked grateful, though, and Tony was relieved to see a bit of pain leave his eyes.

"Thank you," he murmured. "Howard Stark?"

"Yeah, let's...let's not bring that up," Tony said. "It's okay, Bucky. Come sit. We've got a lot to talk about. And so do the terror twins."

"Oh?" Natasha said, pulling her way out of Thor's grip and looking at him. 

She knew. Tony knew that she knew; they had, in fact, been waiting for this moment probably for as long as Coulson had.

Tony offered a phone to her with a smile. 

"Phil needs you," he said. "You gonna call him?"

The two of them beamed.


	32. Three AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil receives a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The trio basically gets two reunions, so don't worry about this one not being sufficiently dramatic; there's another one in the works, which is much more dramatic and sobfesty.

Coulson was vaguely aware of the phone ringing in his ear, and it stirred him awake slowly, in degrees; he grunted, annoyed, and went for his phone.

He pressed the button before he really registered what JARVIS was saying to him as he did, and so it was a half-awake ear that got the full brunt of, _"Hey, babe. Missed you."_

Coulson's entire world came to a screeching, shuddering halt.

He got up out of bed, leaving the bedroom as Pepper sat up, befuddled, calling his name. Coulson didn't hear her; he bolted outside, and as the stars shone down on him, as if in approval, he whispered, "Darling?"

_"Yep. Me and Nat are with Tony now. It's a long story."_

"I bet," Coulson said, tears in his eyes. "I bet, dear. Are you going to tell me?"

_"Oh, duh! But not right now. You need to rest. We just...wanted to let you know we're alive. I mean, we never died, Phil. We just...had to leave for a bit. You were safer if you didn't know."_

Phil closed his eyes. They'd never died. They'd never left him, never. They had just been waiting to come home. It was more than he could have ever hoped for.

"I understand," he replied. "I don't like it...but yes, I understand."

_"Good. It hurt, not having you...but it's okay now. We're gonna be fine. I love you, Phil. Nat wants to talk to you before you go back to bed, okay?"_

"Okay," Coulson murmured, his voice breaking a little. "I love you so much, Clint."

_"Love you too, babe. Nat! Nat, come talk to Phil, he's missed you!"_

Coulson's hands were shaking by the time Natasha came to the phone, her voice warm and bright with love as she whispered his name.

"Yes, love," Phil said, his voice breaking as he spoke, "yes, I'm here, Natasha. You still with me?"

 _"Always_ ," she said. " _Always and forever, Phil. As you were with us when we left."_

Coulson began to sob; deep, gut-wrenching sobs that broke his ribcage and made him shudder, standing on the sidewalk and feeling like he was going to either throw up or cry himself dry. 

"I missed you two so much," he said, trying to keep his voice from breaking beneath his tears. "Why...why did you leave me? Please, Nat. You can explain the rest later, but I need to know why. If nothing else, I need to know the reason you left. Please. You owe me that much."

 _"We do,"_ she said, her tone wistful, _"forgive me, my love. It was my idea. I know a man who may be able to help us revive the Captain. It was his death that made me take action. If it matters," she told him, "we were, in fact, successful."_

"You found the man, then?" Coulson asked. "Dare I ask who?"

_"Bucky Barnes."_

Coulson was quiet for a minute.

"...I see," he finally said, his voice raspy. "Well...tell him he can sign my trading cards too, if he wants." 

_"He knows more about the serum than anyone alive, Phil. He might be able to help us bring back the Captain, though I haven't told Tony yet; he's working on Bruce right now. After all that is said and done..."_ Natasha sighed. " _This is war, Phil. And we want you by our side."_

"Once everyone's back, we'll come home," Phil promised. "Just to make sure things go smoothly."

 _"Of course. I love you, Coulson. Stay safe. Clint and I will take care of one another; you take care of Pepper, and most importantly, yourself,"_ Natasha said _. "You are vulnerable. Watch your back."_

"I will," Coulson murmured, "for your sake. I love you both so much. Stay safe."

_"We will. Go back to bed, Phil; you need your rest. I love you."_

She hung up on him, and he was smiling as he went back inside, the last lilting syllable of her voice ringing in his ear as he climbed into bed beside Pepper, who yawned and threw an arm over him, snuggling close.

"What was it?" She mumbled. "Fury need you to do somethin', Phil?"

Phil pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and whispered in her ear, " _They're alive."_

Her eyes widened and she gripped Phil's shirt tight as he added, just as quietly, " _They're both with Tony. They found Bucky, I don't know how. But they're safe with him."_

She just nodded, her hands shaking as she held him close, silent support as they let the reality of their lives sink in. 

Eventually, they fell asleep, unable to say much more about the new situation in the presence of the cameras, but their hearts were a little lighter when they did, and their dreams a little better for the truth, unspoken or otherwise.

...

"He knows you're okay?" Tony said. Natasha nodded, handing him the phone; her eyes were clear, but Tony hadn't expected her to weep publicly, nor Clint. It would be a quieter place that would accept their tears. Tony sighed in relief and put his phone in his pocket before looking at the three of them.

"Okay. So, Bucky; you're coming with Erik and I, we need all the notes on the serum you have. First, though; everyone just go the fuck to sleep, it's late. We all need the break. Darce, do me a favor, find these guys a place to sleep?" Tony said. Darcy nodded, beckoning to them.

"C'mon, dudes," she said, "gotta find you a place to camp. You okay with sleeping bags? We're kinda out of air mattresses, we gotta make a run into town tomorrow."

"Sleeping bags are fine," Natasha said. "We've been moving from Russian hotel to Russian hotel and sleeping on planes for the past week. We'll live."

"Man, more exciting than my week. I hung out with gods and played pinball," Darcy said, unrolling three sleeping bags. "You can zip these two together if you want, lovebirds. Jane and I did it."

"Thanks," Clint said, zipping them together as she had suggested. "So, you and the cute brunette?"

"Yeah, she's my girlfriend," Darcy said, sitting down beside him. "She's totally awesome, and she's trying to do important science junk, so I'm in charge of babysitting. I think you and Nat are gonna have my job too, 'cause Bucky's going to be dealing with Tony and Erik."

"Swell," Bucky said, clambering into his sleeping bag. "Tony looks like he's gonna be a hell of a lot like Howard. Could be interesting."

"Don't bring it up," Natasha told him. "Tony is not...he does not regard his father in high esteem."

"Why not?" Bucky asked, befuddled. "Howard was a great guy. Bit arrogant, bit of a skirt-chaser, but smart as hell. What's Tony got against him?"

"The Howard you knew was not the Howard Tony knows," Natasha said gently. "He did not take your death well. Nor Steve's. Especially yours."

"...Ah," Bucky said faintly, a pained note in his voice. "The drink, then?"

"Yes, he...he succumbed," Natasha replied. "Please, Bucky. I know you want to know more about your old friend. But the only things Tony knows are things that will taint your memory of Howard. Don't let that happen, for either of your sakes."

"All right, I get it," Bucky sighed. "Don't ask him about his dad and don't bring up my memories of the guy. Fine. I'm not gonna kill him, Nat."

"Bucky, I know," she said, "but Tony's moods are...strange. _He's_ strange, frankly. But I think you'll like him if you remember to be careful about Howard."

"Good, I'll be spending the next week with him," Bucky grumbled. "Anyways, thanks dame; sweet of you to get us the sleeping bags."

"Oh my god, and I thought _Tony_ was uncool," Darcy said. "Jesus, your slang is so uncool it just...sort of warps back to being kinda cute."

"Darcy, he's from 1945," Clint said, trying not to laugh. "cut him some slack."

"Right, a senior discount. Cool, dude. Nice meeting you too. Just be careful, okay?" Darcy grinned wickedly. "Phil told me Clint snores."

"I do not!" He squawked in protest; Bucky snorted, amused, and shook his head as he closed his eyes. Darcy patted the top of his head before turning to the other two and smiling.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay now," she promised. "We'll get everyone back, you'll see."

"Yes, we will," Natasha murmured. "And Coulson too."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed, suddenly somber, "Coulson too. He really needed you, y'know. I heard Tony when he was on the phone with Phil before we knew you were okay, and he kinda just...broke."

"We know," Natasha replied. "We did...we did what we could. And we kept him safe."

"Yeah, y'did, so don't worry about it too much, okay? Just go to bed. You did good. Just...keep doing it, I guess," Darcy said, standing up. "Night, guys. Get some rest, seriously. They'll be up at six AM blowing holes in the ground."

"Great," Natasha said, sighing as she closed her eyes and snuggled into Clint's arms, her back pressed against Bucky's sleeping bag, "Tony doesn't seem to have learned to operate like a normal person regarding a sleep schedule."

"Tony doesn't have seem to learned how to operate like a normal person about _anything,"_ Clint grumbled. "Go to bed, babes. Love you. Night."

He buried his face into Natasha's hair and closed his eyes, drifting off. Darcy let the three of them have some peace, going towards the van and climbing in, kicking off her shoes.

"Oh, hey Sif," she said. "You sleeping in here tonight?"

"Yes," Sif said, sitting up and stretching. "The warriors have not bathed since we've arrived, I fear, and it's starting to stink in their van."

"I figured," Darcy said, stretching. "Y'know what, though, we could all use a shower. Maybe we can go drive for a bit, try to find a lake or something. Or at least get someone's damn hose."

"The town was largely abandoned after the Destroyer attack, was it not?" Sif said. "Why don't we go see if any of the houses are intact? Surely Tony can repair the water lines and get them working?"

"That's not a bad idea," Darcy said. "I mean, he's gonna be busy with note-taking and all, because he wants his boyfriend back, but Erik can just transcribe notes of what Bucky knows, and Tony can put it into action later. Honestly, having a place to refridgerate shit and shower would be really helpful." She grinned. "Pretty brilliant idea, Sif."

"Thank you," Sif said, preening slightly. "Necessity brings creativity."

"I figure," Darcy said. "Hey, also, unrelated but important; dude, that's my side of the van."

Sif blushed, making a move as if to get off the pull-out couch; Darcy shook her head and grinned.

"Nah, man, just move over," she said. "I don't care about sharing."

Sif nodded, settling back in a bit farther away as Darcy flopped down on top of her side of the couch, curling up and falling asleep without another word, utterly trusting.

Sif stroked her hair once, a mix of bemusement and wonder coloring her touch, before following suit. 

Jane came in an hour later to find them both; she just rolled her eyes, amused, and climbed in, pressing Darcy in between her and Sif, throwing an arm over them both and going to sleep.


	33. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif and Tony get on surprisingly well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Sif and Tony work together well much for the same reasons Tony and Pep do; he can't fuck with a woman as badass and no-nonsense as Sif. She cuts right through his bullshit, so he can't dick with her. I love Sif so much, god.  
> Anyway, finally, some Steve/Tony! It took a long goddamn time, but in my defense, they were both kind of dead for awhile.   
> And yeah, so, I...I can't help myself with threesomes. They're just so CONVENIENT. It's so much easier on my indecisive heart to just smash two otps together into one than it is to make a choice. That's a hard damn choice to make, okay?  
> And yeah, Bucky/Tony brotp in the works. You'll see.

Bucky awoke the next morning to Tony sitting and looking down at him, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hey," he said. "So, uh...you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Bucky said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and looking up at Tony as he sat up and stretched out, keeping his gaze on Tony. "So, uh... _you_ okay?"

"...'Course," Tony said, shaking his head, "why wouldn't I be?"

He was lying and Bucky knew it. The look on his face spoke of someone used to lying, to throwing up the quick defenses of indifference and attitude. 

"Well, Nat told me you lost some friends," Bucky said. "Losing a friend is hard. Believe me, I know. I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'll bring them back if it kills me," Tony said in the sort of sharp, rough tone honed by determination that let Bucky knew he meant it entirely. "I don't matter. If they come back, that's what matters."

"I'm sure they'd disagree," Bucky replied, "and from the look of things, so would a lot of other people."

Tony shrugged. Bucky felt a twinge of pity for him; his shoulders were hunched, he looked exhausted, and the look in his eyes was hollow and pained. He would work himself to death for his family; in fact, he already was.

Bucky had to get him started on the serum, and fast. Best not to drag this out. 

"Tony, go eat, okay?" He said. "I'll wake Clint and Natasha up."

"Too late," Clint said, getting up and glaring at Tony. "Don't you start being a suicidal dumbass again, you fuck. Steve's going to need your support."

"I _know that_ ," Tony said through gritted teeth, "but he's going to need to be _alive_ again to have my support, won't he?"

 _He has me_ , Bucky wanted to protest, _he's_ always _had me,_ but that wasn't the truth anymore, and he was so sick of lies, even the nice ones.

"Still. Don't be dead by the time we get him back, Tony. It sort of defeats the purpose." Clint chastised him. "Natasha's going to shadow you in the lab and kick your ass if you're overworking yourself, aren't you honey?"

"Yep," Natasha said, a satisfied smile creeping over her face. "I don't have any weapons with me except my gun, which means I only have a good thousand and ten ways to incapacitate or injure you if you decide you're going to be an idiot. We'll make do."

"I wish you two had stayed dead," Tony grumbled, getting up to go make them coffee. They both snorted, nuzzling each other awake before Bucky helped them up and the three of them plodded off to see what the day's agenda was.

Darcy was up and dressed, sipping at a cup of coffee. She waved at Bucky before fixating a glare on Tony.

"We really need to get a shower," she said. "Sif had a good suggestion, but we'll need your help to do it."

"Oh? Let's hear it, then, Sif," Tony said, taking his own cup of coffee. The goddess shrugged, pointing towards Puente Antiguo.

"The town nearby was by and large destroyed, and many of its citizens moved to other towns rather than rebuild after such destruction," Sif said. "I was thinking, perhaps, that we could go and take refuge in one of the abandoned homes for a time. If we can get the power and water working, we could refridgerate food so it would keep for longer...and, more importantly, shower."

"Yeah, you all stink," Clint piped up helpfully. "We could use a shower, Tony."

"That's true," Tony admitted. "I'll head into town then; Erik, you up to picking Bucky's brain for me?"

"Of course," Erik said. "I can talk with Bucky if he's willing. If you could give me the notes you pilfered from S.H.I.E.L.D. as well, that would be helpful." He frowned. "Tony, we'll need to blueprint the Vita-Ray machines as well. Do you think we'll have the supplies necessary?"

"Here's hoping," Tony said. "If not, I can always get Happy to deliver more, but it'll take time. I'd rather we didn't take too much time to get all this over and done with." He sighed. "Regardless, we do need a shower and a place to store food; it'll cut down on the need for daily grocery runs. So that's the main priority—but it'll be quick, at least."

"True," Erik said. "Bucky and I will talk, Clint, Natasha, and Darcy will accompany the warriors for a grocery run, Jane and Thor will continue the portal, and Tony, you can go begin house repairs."

"I would not like it if Anthony went alone," Sif said. "It was my idea, so I will go with him. If we can, we should not go alone anywhere anymore. This is war, doctor."

"True," Erik agreed with a sigh. "Be careful, please. Sif, watch Tony's back. Tony, don't take any risks."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want any tumbleweeds to kick my ass," Tony said. "relax. I'll be just fine. C'mon, Sif."

She stood, following after him as Tony grabbed the keys and a toolbox, climbing into one of the trucks and starting it up.

"See you soon!" Darcy called, waving as they left, peeling off down the road and into the desert. 

She turned back to the warriors and yawned, stretching out. 

"Pizza run?" She asked. Clint beamed.

"Fuck _yes,"_ he enthused, chugging his coffee and standing up. "I've been holed up in Russia for the past two months—you know how hard it is to find pizza in Russia?"

"I can imagine," Darcy remarked, patting his shoulder. "You brave soldier. Too good for this sinful earth."

"Damn right," Clint said. "I'd fuckin' kill a man for a good slice of pizza. There a diner near here?"

"Yeah, and the pizza's not bad," Darcy replied. "Nat, you up for pizza?" 

"I'll eat anything, at this point," Natasha said. "Bucky, be safe. We will be back soon." 

She stroked his hair before going to join Darcy and Clint, who were already clambering into the car with the Warriors Three in tow. 

"Man, we really all _do_ need a shower," Darcy said as she started the car. "We're starting to stand out just because we all look like hobos who haven't showered in weeks."

"We _are_ vagabonds who haven't showered in weeks," Hogun said with a sigh. "It is of little consequence. Anthony will repair one of the houses and we will have a shower to ourselves soon enough."

"True," Darcy agreed. "Still, it's been a long time since we've had, y'know, _normal_. I mean..." She sighed. "Jane and I went back to college after this for awhile, but we had to leave again to visit, and now all this...well, like...I dunno. I miss home. I miss normal. I don't like living out in the middle of a desert out of my car, okay?"

"I know this is not ideal for anyone," Natasha said. "Believe me, I understand. I had to leave my lover; he thought both Clint and I dead for two months. We searched over the entirety of Russia for Bucky; now that we've found him...well, we are still separated from Coulson. We are still entrenched in this war. Darcy, I know this is hard; we are all struggling."

Darcy stared at her for a second.

"Wait.. _.you're_ Phil's girlfrind?" She said, stunned. "He's dating _you_?"

"I care little about superficialities," Natasha said primly, "I get enough of them in my line of work. Besides, I happen to find him attractive—though that is wholly irrelevant. Coulson is my lover. He saved my life, and Clint's as well. He made us whole and human. It matters not what he looks like."

"No, no, I don't care about _that,_ but—Christ, you're like a super-spy, aren't you?" She asked. "Shit. Guy's more than he seems."

"Tell me about it," Natasha said, a tiny smile on her face. "Coulson does not let on to the truth much, but when he is needed, he is as dangerous as Clint or myself. He is an agent to the bone, Darcy. And he is more than worthy to stand by our sides—as our lover or as our partner."

"Ours? So, uh...both of you?" Darcy asked, raising an eyebrow. Clint nodded, finally speaking. 

"Yeah," he said. "We're both his. Coulson takes care of us, and we take care of him, y'know?" His body was tense as he spoke, his bearing wary as he set his shoulders and regarded Darcy.

"Chill out, dude. I don't care. I mean, I'm really not within the realm of right to complain, really, 'cause of Sif and stuff. I was just asking, Clinty, so get your feathers un-ruffled." Darcy said. Clint huffed at the nickname as Darcy pulled into the diner parking lot.

"Wait, Sif?" Natasha asked, tilting her head. "So you and Jane have decided mutually on a relationship, or...?"

"We're not sure," Darcy admitted. "But...we've considered it. Sif...well, she's...like an awesome knight in shining armor, just for lesbians."

Natasha laughed before she could stop herself. 

"She is that," Fandral agreed, and Darcy realized suddenly that she'd run her mouth off in front of Sif's friends. Fandral laughed, evidently noticing the look of panic on Darcy's face.

"It's all right; I have known Sif since we were children, and I assure you, we've known perhaps longer than she has that she is interested in other women. It's only natural; where it matters, she is as much of a man as we are. And taking two lovers is not unheard of on Asgard; she won't be adverse to the idea, at least." He soothed her. Darcy groaned.

"Well, that's about the closest to a vote of confidence I'm getting, so hooray," Darcy enthused, before getting out of the car. "We'll see, we'll see. What's really important right now is pizza."

"Indeed!" Volstagg agreed, following after Darcy as they made their way into the diner.

...

"So, you and Darcy," Tony said casually. "Well, more like you, Darcy, and Jane. Kinky."

"I could gut you with a dull stone, Stark," Sif replied, her tone just as casual. Tony snorted.

"Oh, I see why Darcy likes you. Jane, though, I confess; I'm still shocked. She's talked about you, y'know; all positive stuff. I mean, we should've been discussing science, but I'm always up for talking about particularly stacked brunettes," Tony said. "My guess is the kid's a bit starstruck. She's a nerd, not a warrior. Play up the Xena shit a bit more, she's eating it up."

"And who are _you_ to lecture me on my lovelife, mortal?" Sif snapped, her face red. Tony laughed, loud and long as he kicked down the door to one of the most intact houses on the street.

"The man who went through half the Playboy mansion in twelve hours, a trail of satisfied women in my wake. I'd like to think I know something about women. You, however, despite your inclinations, do not," Tony said. "I'm _helping_."

Sif sighed, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head. 

"You're as bad as Thor said," she told him. "But...interesting. Tell me more, Man of Iron; what...what is it they want from me?"

"As an Asgardian ass-kicker? They want someone who makes sure they don't die when we get swept up in this battle," Tony said. "They're scared college kids who are too smart and too chummy with eons-old deities for their own good. They need you."

"And they shall have me, forever," Sif said, surprised at the truth that fell through her lips like fine wine, "they will have my sword and shield, and all the might behind it. I will protect them."

"Good, good. So you've got the badass warrior queen down pat, we get it. So what happens after?" Tony said, sizing her up as he went to the fuse box, whacking the lock off with a hammer and opening it up to take a look. "What do you do when everyone drops their weapons and goes home?"

"I...I don't know," Sif said, surprising Tony with the open, honest look on her face. "I've thought about it, but the truth is, on Asgard, I would not have a wife to return to, nor a lover. I am a man where it matters, Anthony; in heart and soul I remain a warrior, a defender, but the maids of Asgard do not seem to be in agreement with my view on the subject." 

"Yeah, we're not that great about gender either, most of the time," Tony agreed. "Well then I guess my question is more just—with them, let's speak in hypotheticals here, with them as your lovers, what would you do? What can you do for them that _doesn't_ end up narrowed down to 'hit stuff with swords on a battlefield for them?'"

"...I cannot beget them children," Sif admitted with a frown, "as Volstagg has done for his wife. I can...provide them a home. On Asgard, I mean; I can provide Jane with all the wonders of the world and a place to share her knowledge. I can provide for Darcy a place of safety and unity. I am a provider as well as a protector; that is not hard. It is...it is the love I have a hard time with." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"It is not because I do not feel it, but because I have never encountered such a thing, and as such, have not the means to describe it," she said. "I do not know how to explain things such affections, let alone a duality of that selfsame love."

"Well, usually that's the easy part," Tony said dryly, "you take your pants off and everything falls into place."

Sif rolled her eyes and gave him a look of exasperated disgust as he continued to fiddle with the fuse box, re-arranging wires and replacing small parts.

"Is that how you confessed to your lover?" She demanded. "I do not mean your harems or conquests; they were inconsequential and you and I both know it. I am talking about the Captain, Anthony. The mate of your soul."

Tony got quiet.

For a few minutes, he let himself remember a tearful, drunken confession at four in the morning; Steve had just come in for some cereal, a snack on one of his restless nights.   
Tony had ruined that, like he ruined just about everything else, by being drunk and stumbling home again. If it had been anyone else, it would have just gone on as it usually did, with him crawling into bed blind drunk and refusing to wake up until four in the afternoon. Pepper had given up on doing more than putting him to bed and blistering his ears in the morning, and no one else currently in the house knew how to deal with him. Not that Steve did, either; it was just that he wasn't impressed enough by Tony to care.

He put his cereal down and sat Tony down at the table, giving him a look that said 'stay put,' even filtered through Tony's drunk gaze. He went to the sink and got a cool washcloth, handing the wet cloth to Tony and letting him hold it over his forehead and eyes, the cool water soaking into his skin and soothing the pounding headache building to a great crescendo at his temples. 

Steve got him a glass of cold water and let him sip it as he ate his cereal in small, meticulous bites. Tony didn't look at him; it was easier to pretend that Steve wasn't helping him, the last person that he deserved sitting next to him sober, let alone wasted.

"Bed," Steve said, his voice quiet but no less authoritative for it. Tony felt him put a hand on his shoulder, helping him to his feet.

"Sounds good, sweetheart," Tony said with a grin, and oh god there went his mouth again, scotch making his words flow like a river without heed to the dam of common sense. "Yours or mine?"

"Would you fall asleep better in mine?" Steve asked.

It wasn't a proposition or flirtatious at all; it was genuine concern and kindness, which Tony didn't know how to process sober, let alone drunk, so he stood there for a few minutes blinking stupidly at Steve before he realized Steve meant sleeping.

"Uh, I...I guess," Tony said. "I mean..."

"Well, come on, then," Steve said, leading him up to his floor, not Tony's, which still probably reeked of last night's 'ignore the man you've had a crush on your entire life living in your tower' sex. It had been nice sex for escapist fantasy sex. That said, he had forced himself not to cry Steve's name more than once. He needed better self control.

 _Understatement of the century_ , he thought, _and I bet Steve would know, since he's seen plenty of it._

That got him laughing, and the elevator doors opened up to Steve's floor revealing a very confused Captain who was warily regarding Tony, half-laughing, half-sobbing as he leaned against the elevator threshold for support.

"Tony, you...really need some rest," Steve said. "I'll just put you to bed and we'll talk in the morning."

"I don't listen to people who try to put me to bed," Tony said. "Not unless they want to get in there with me."

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed him, (gently, though, and what a nice treat that was), towards his bedroom. He opened the door and sat Tony down on the sizable mattress, taking off his shoes and suitjacket, untrusting of Tony's fumbling hands.

"What about my belt?" Tony asked with a tiny grin. "Fuck if I'm sleeping in my belt."

Steve sighed and undid it as well, taking it off slowly, his hands barely spiriting over Tony's hips, let alone the front of his pants, and setting it aside. He gave Tony a look.

"Now look, Tony," Steve said, his voice sharp and his bearing firm and focused as he regarded Tony's loose grin, "you're drunk. I'm not going to talk to you about the weather while you're drunk, let alone your sex life. If you didn't drink so much, I wouldn't ignore the topic."

"So you're ignoring me 'cause I'm an alcoholic?" Tony snorted, his grin becoming rough and ragged, hanging by a loose thread on his face. "Better than what I thought. Here I was thinking you just hated me for existing. For not being Howard. For...y'know, being me."

"What? Oh, Tony, don't be ridiculous," Steve said, taking his hands. "You're assuming the worst. I don't want to talk to you right now because you won't take it seriously. I don't hate you. Not even for your drinking. I just want you to get a good night's rest and talk to me in the morning."

"But in the morning, we'll be back at breakfast," Tony blurted out, tears springing to his eyes, "and you'll just sit and drink coffee across from me and I'll want to kiss you so hard it hurts, but I can't, because you're so pretty in the mornings, and I'm always messy and my breath smells gross so I'm not allowed to kiss you in the morning, or ever, and if I don't kiss you now, when am I going to? The times I'm drunk are the only times I can forget why I shouldn't kiss you, damn it!"

Steve just stared at him for a second.

"Then let me kiss you," he said, his voice soft. "Let me kiss you now, and we'll talk in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay," Tony said, and that was that; Steve's lips were on his own, and every festering fantasy he'd ever had was thrust out into the sunlight to be purged, melting away into a clean, chaste kiss that made Tony shake and cling to Steve for support.

When Steve pulled away, Tony whimpered for him to come back; something he hadn't done since puberty. Steve murmured softly to him and stroked his hair. 

"I want to talk when you'll listen to me, and understand," Steve said, "but...that felt good, right?"

Tony nodded. Steve kissed his forehead.

"Good," he said. "If you can talk to me tomorrow and say just the right things...there'll be plenty more where that came from."

Steve got up and went to leave.

"I love you," Tony blurted out, as if it would stop him from going. "I love you, I've always loved you, I love you so much..."

It stopped Steve for a minute, just before the threshold of the door.

He smiled, then; the first real, genuine smile Tony had seen on his face since he had arrived at the Tower.

"That's a pretty good start," he said.

Then he turned out the lights and let Tony collect his thoughts in the warm safety of the darkness.

...

"Anthony? Are you well?" Sif asked, jolting him back to the present. Tony jumped, startled, before looking at her and trying to figure out how to begin putting into words all that his memories had reminded him of.

There were other things, of course; how Steve had held him and stroked his hair the next morning, how Steve had let him pour out his heart and soul to him, confessing every flaw, every sin, and every facet of his love along with it, and then, best of all, how Steve had kissed him and promised to love him all the same.

There was the fact that slowly but surely, Tony's oasis of alcohol, his escape from the world at large, began to dry up; there was no room for polluted water in the depths of all the love he had for Steve. There was the truth that they had made love after waiting, courting, and learning one another's heart and soul before they attempted a rote memorization of the body.

Then there was the deepest, darkest secret that Tony had cried afterwards, and Steve had kissed him. 

"No," he just said; no, he was not going to spill his guts, he was better than that, and no, Steve had always been more special than that, "no, I...we just..."

"It is a private matter," Sif said gently. "I will inquire no further."

"Thanks," Tony said. "Anyway...yeah. I know it's hard. And for two people it's even harder. But, y'know...if they like you, things always work out. _Really_ like you, not just love you, flaws and all."

"Thank you, Anthony," Sif said. "You are learned about this subject; I am grateful for your help."

"No problem, Sif," Tony replied. "Do me a favor and get me my drill?"

Sif handed to him without a word, letting Tony continue on with his repairs as she sat and mused on her own thoughts. The mortal was right; before she decided on true love, on a warrior's devotion, she had to make sure she liked them, first.

Though as she continued to think, she had already made that decision for herself. If she hadn't made it when she had spoken with Darcy in the diner, when had she? If she hadn't made it when she confessed her secrets and insecurities to Jane, when had she? Of course she liked them; brilliant, brave women, and more importantly, kind women—how could she not?

She liked them, Sif decided with a content smile, and that meant she could pursue them. Not now, certainly, but knowing it was an option filled her with an odd, affectionate relief as she watched Tony work.

For another hour or so, they meandered about the house, fixing lights and repairing damaged wires, replacing bulbs and installing a few surge protectors Tony had brought with him. Eventually, he stood back in the room they had started their repairs, a broad grin on his face.

"Light it up, then," he said, "and let's see what happens."

He flicked the switch and, with a sputtering, sharp jerk, the power began to whirr back to life, lights turning on all throughout the house, surges of power swimming through the wires as Tony pumped his fist and shouted with triumph.

"So, the water lines should be back up now," he said as Sif sighed, relieved, "and I replaced the gas and oil while we were working, so we should be all good to go to call everyone in, don't you think?"

"Certainly," Sif said, smiling slightly as she pointed towards the bathrooms. "You may shower first, Anthony. You have certainly earned it. I will contact the others and let them know that we have succeeded in our efforts and that we may begin moving here to shower and store our food."

"We'll make another grocery run too, probably, though that's someone else's problem," Tony said. "I have people to resurrect."

Sif laughed, nodding in agreement as she started for the downstairs floor; Tony left the room and headed for the showers with a sigh of relief, taking his shirt off as he went and anticipating the rivers of hot water pouring down his shoulders.


	34. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has an attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first; trigger warning for panic attacks. It's not heavy on the description, but they're there, and I know I'd want a warning, so there you go.  
> Second, on a lighter note, I really like making SHIELD agent OCs. They're not relevant to much but I like them. I had an OC fondness back in my early dark days of fanfic writing, and it persists through minor additions to fics.

"Sir, you know I hate this," Devon remarked as she took a bite of her sandwich, watching the ruins of the town. Annaby frowned and gave her a look.

"You know I hate it when you call me sir, kiddo," she replied in kind, brushing a chunk of curly, dark hair out of her face. "Don't start with me on 'protocol' or whatever, we're partners. And there's no one out here but us and the tumbleweeds anyway, so it doesn't matter what you call me, so long as you intend on sharing that sandwich."

"Made you your own, Prester," she said, taking it out of the bag she'd kept them both in and proferring it to her. "Want it now, then?"

"Hell yeah, thanks," she said, taking it and tearing off a bite. "We've got work to do; the Director wants us to monitor the town. Or, well, what's left of it. Something about magic residue or whatever. Not that I care; we get the device from the tech branch, it goes 'ding' when there's stuff, and we report back to him. Clear?"

"Crystal, Prester; let's move," Devon said, helping Annaby out of the car as they went meandering through the town. 

There wasn't much to look at; a few dilapitated buildings and leftover houses clinging stubbornly to their foundations. Some remained largely intact, but the charring on the outside spoke of the Destroyer's rampage just as clearly as the destroyed buildings.

"Hey, Rushdie," Annaby said, raising an eyebrow, "that just my eyes playin' tricks on me, or do you see the lights on in the next road over?"

Devon tilted her head and observed it carefully, chewing on her bottom lip as his eyes got wide.

"Yeah, it is," she finally said, shaking her head in amazement. "The lights are on, Pres; what should we do?"

"Could be squatters," Annaby said, though it was clear she didn't even believe herself that much. Devon shook her head.

"Squatters with advanced engineering skills? Nah. Someone's there, and we gotta go check on them." She held up her gun. "You ready?"

She nodded, and the two of them went towards the lit-up house, quiet and quick, like stalking cats.

...

Sif tensed within the house as she stood in the foyer, every muscle in her body screaming for battle. She didn't know quite why, but something screamed for blood within her body, and sating it became her mind's main concern. She went for her sword and drew it, tense. Surely this was an overreaction, a hunger for battle after two weeks away. 

Then the door was kicked down, guns pointed in her direction, and Sif's entire being became _war._

 _"RUN!_ " She shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping Tony would hear her. She heard muffled curses and the shudder of the shower coming to a stop, so she could only hope for the best as she brandished her sword.

"Away with you," she snarled. "I will protect myself and those around me from your harm, hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D.; I beseech you leave now before I destroy you completely."

"An Asgardian," one of them breathed, and Sif tensed; her guess had been correct. Only the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. would know her for what she was. "What are you here for?"

"That is none of your concern," Sif replied, "now _leave."_

"Sorry," the woman said, raising her gun and aiming. "Can't. Director's orders. I'm pretty sure your kind count as some kind of magic."

Sif ducked, and the bullet grazed the top of her head; she snarled and slammed the flat of her blade into the woman's stomach, pushing her out the door and onto the ground outside with bruising force. These people were not the Director, the man that had ordered the death of her dearest, truest shieldbrother; she would not kill them in such an unfair fight. But she had to subdue them and find Tony, _quickly._

The other agent flung himself at her, screaming; she admired her courage and willingness to protect her partner, but it did not soften her blow as it did her heart; she threw her through the wall with a single graceful gesture. 

The two of them were immobilized for the moment; Sif sighed with relief and went to go find Tony. They had to get him out; should the agents see him, the Director would know, and their plans would be for nothing.

She slipped out of the house and began to scan the perimeter, searching for Tony.

...

Tony had been half-dressed when Sif shouted; he didn't know what the hell had just happened, but if it was enough to spook a seasoned warrior goddess, Tony was not sticking around to find out, he knew that.

So, shirt in hand and jeans riding low on his hips, Tony went for the window, making his way out and inching slowly down the side of the house. Thankfully, it had a layered roof; Tony moved from the gutter and onto the lower roof, perching there for a second to catch his breath and listen for further warnings. When nothing came, nor did he hear the sounds of any more fighting, Tony climbed down and flattened himself against the side of the house.

He debated getting dressed and decided against it; he'd made his way out of people's houses before in less clothing than this, and Sif was a lesbian, so he doubted she cared much. 

He debated going to find her before remembering he hadn't brought his suit; he would simply be in the way, especially considering this was most likely a very physical fight. If the goddess of war couldn't protect him, then he was probably fucked anyway.

Tony breathed slowly, trying to stay relaxed. This was not a war zone. He was okay. This was the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. He had a goddess backing him up. He didn't need to panic. He was going to be fine. He had to be fine. Steve was going to be home soon. He had to be okay. For Steve. For Steve. Steve, Steve, _Steve._..

Tony felt his heart thudding insistently against his chest, the shrapnel pulsing sharply in the thick muscle of his heart. He was always hyper-aware of it in times like this, the way it was inching further and further towards his aorta and so eager to rip his entire chest to shreds...

He went to breathe and found himself significantly lacking in air. Tony twitched, shuddering against the side of the house and trying desperately to breathe. His chest hurt, and everything in his body was collapsing in on him as his head pounded violently. More than anything, he wanted Steve. He wanted his lover to hold him and calm him down and make everything better, but Steve was _dead_ , and he—

"Anthony," Sif said, making him twitch and gasp, cringing and looking away as she approached him, "are you well?"

It was a ridiculous question; the man before her was pale, sweating, and looked on the verge of illness. She didn't understand; he was a warrior, was he not?

"Hurts," Tony rasped, his voice a staccato gasp as he tried to force air into his lungs. "Sorry, I must look—stupid, I know, I—" He shook his head. "Fuck—"

"Tony, we need to leave," she said. "I'm sorry, and whatever this is, we will handle it, but right now, there are hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. baying at our door, and we need to get you out of here."

Tony nodded, unable to speak any further; Sif picked him up and hefted him into her arms, holding him tight.

"Do not worry, Anthony; I've carried heavier men than you. Just do not let go," she advised him as she began to bolt, running across the backyard and over into the next few roads, heading for their van. Tony just nodded, clinging to her tunic as Sif wrenched open the car door, putting him in shotgun and climbing into the driver's side.

"Do...do you even know how to drive one of these?" Tony said, trying not to grin and failing. Sif rolled her eyes.

"No, but I have tamed the mighty pegasi of the Valkyrie; the most capricious beasts on all Asgard. I will be able to handle your metal steeds, surely," Sif said. "Besides, no offense meant, noble warrior, but you are in no condition to drive."

"Panic attack," Tony said, hunching his shoulders. "Sorry."

"It is not your fault," Sif said gently, giving him a small smile. "We will sort it out shortly. Just hang on, and we'll be home soon."

"Yeah," Tony said, perking up a bit as she turned the keys. "Just...try not to get us killed on the way there."

"I make no promises," Sif said as they sped off. "These may, in fact, be more feisty creatures than anticipated."

"You are definitely not helping my panic attack right now," Tony said with a resigned sigh, closing his eyes. He'd rather not see his own death as it raced towards him.

...

"Sif has returned, it seems," Hogun remarked. "Something must be wrong with the man of iron..."

"Eh? How do you figure?" Fandral asked, tilting his head. Hogun pointed to the van barreling their way.

"The man of iron would never drive a car in such a manner. Ergo, Sif is the one driving right now...and if he is not driving, something terrible has occurred." Hogun said. "Alert Thor; I'll summon the others."

"Very well," Fandral agreed as the van came to a sudden screeching stop. Muffled curses were heard from within as both men fled, eager to be away from what was evidently a hard-won battlefield.

"Damn your metal beasts!" Sif cursed, shaking her head and throwing her hands up as she climbed out of the car. "How in the Allfather's name you manage to drive those monstrosities, I will _never_ understand! _This_ is why we continue using horses! It is _simpler!"_

"I admit, I have never gotten the hang of the metal steeds of Midgard myself," Thor said with a small grin as he joined the group. "Sif, where is Anthony?"

"He has not left the car," Sif said. "I believe he is ill. He was speaking of a panic attack...? I'm unsure what he meant, but it seems to have effected him severely."

Thor paled; Clint, Natasha, and Bucky looked at one another, wary and Darcy, Jane, and Erik glanced at each other, cautious. Sif looked befuddled.

"Are they truly that fearful? I do not know how to provide him aid, I merely wished...to bring him home..." She trailed off as Natasha put a hand on her shoulder.

"You did the right thing," she said. "Sif, you go with Erik, Jane, and Darcy; explain what happened, please. Thor, go deal with him. Now."

Thor nodded, heading towards the van as Sif looked at the trio, befuddled.

"I did nothing wrong!" She said. "I found him that way after we had to escape, I simply—"

"Sif, you've got nothing to do with it. Tony was a prisoner of war in Afghanistan for about three months; he was having a flashback. That's all. Thor will calm him down and that will be the end of it," Erik promised as he guided her to a camp chair, sitting her down. "Now, what's this about being attacked?"

Jane felt her blood run cold despite herself; she knew it was ridiculous, that Sif could take care of herself, _more_ than take care of herself for god's sake, but...

"You're okay, right?" Darcy blurted out, voicing all of Jane's fears. She smiled at Darcy as Sif nodded, cupping her chin. 

"Don't look so frightened; it was nothing, fair one," Sif said, her voice gentle. "I'm fine. They caused me no damage."

"Who was it?" Jane asked. Sif narrowed her eyes.

"Hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said, "which means the man of Fury is starting to suspect something. They saw me, but they caught no sight of Tony; that, at least, will keep him safe. But we should move. Staying here will only invite danger."

"And go where?" Jane said. "We're almost done with the radiation chamber, we can't—"

"We'll figure it out in a minute," Erik said gently. "I need to know, Sif; how many agents were there?"

"Two," she said. "I immobilized them but did not kill them. Should I have?"

"No; a few dead bodies will cause more trouble. They can tell Fury whatever they want; it'll take them a day or more to get back to New York, or send more people here. I'll have the radiation chamber up and running by then. After that...we'll just have to take the serum equipment with us. It's less to transport, though, so that we can manage. As to where we'll go...I don't know." Erik said with a sigh. "And what about Loki?"

"Thor won't leave without him," Jane said. "But we're almost done with the machine. We'll try to get everything ready by tomorrow so we can mobilize and leave immediately. Loki's magic might be able to help us find a safe place..."

"Here's hoping," Erik said with a frown. "If we can stay here, I'd like that, but even with spells, we don't know what kind of anti-magic technology S.H.I.E.L.D.'s made. We'll move after we bring Bruce back."

"Very well," Sif agreed. "I will see what can be done about food. I think it best we do not return into town. We will find a shower when we leave."

"Agreed," Erik replied. "I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah..." Darcy sighed. "Hey, don't go, okay? We'll help you with food. Please don't leave us."

"I will not," Sif promised, stroking her hair. "Jane, if you would?"

"I'll stay," she said, "but when Thor's done with Tony...sorry, guys, but if we can get this done by tomorrow, I can get us the hell out of here faster than planned."

"True," Sif agreed. "Though you may spend some time with us until then; it seems as though Thor and Anthony will be awhile."

The three of them went to make food as Erik went to work on the radiation chamber, all their hearts heavy.


	35. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say, since this chapter is pretty self-explanatory.  
> Again, trigger warning for panic attacks; it's only in the opening, so skip right past Tony and Thor if it'll bother you.

Thor had seen Anthony have panic attacks before. The Son of Coul or the Captain dealt with them the most often, but neither of them were here; only he remained to take care of his shieldbrother, and so he would.

Thor climbed into the car and sat beside Tony as he sat curled up in his seat, hugging his knees and shaking. He was pale, and he couldn't keep his hands steady; his eyes were wide, seeing nothing, and full of tears as he curled in on himself.

"I can't stop," he whispered. "Please make me stop. It's embarrassing."

"It is something you cannot help, Anthony," Thor said. "It does not make you any less of a man. Please, do as the Captain told you. Breathe. You are here, with us; the sands of your prison are far behind you. We will protect you. You are alive, and safe here with all of us. Please remember to breathe. That is most important."

"Yeah, I know, big guy," Tony said, inhaling through his nose as his entire body trembled violently. "I miss Steve. I liked listening to his heartbeat when I got like this. Why does this have to be so painful, Thor? Why can't he just come back?"

"I do not know," Thor said, his shoulders sagging as he sighed. "He will not be kept from you much longer. We shall have Bruce, and then we will bring back Steven. We will all be together after that, and if the gods are good, we shall never be separated again."

"I'd sooner burn every last S.H.I.E.L.D. base to the ground than have Steve taken from me again, yeah," Tony admitted. "I...I'm breathing, I promise."

"I know, Anthony. Remember, you are safe. All is well. Continue breathing; remind yourself that you are alive. You saved yourself, Tony; it is because of _you_ that you continue to live. I would never have been able to resurrect you without the arc reactor. And through that, you will bring back Bruce and Steven. Do not think of war when you think of your reactor; think of your friends, and how it has saved their lives. Think of yourself." Thor told him, taking his hand.

Tony closed his eyes and began to breathe, slowly but surely. Thor squeezed his hand.

"They will be returned to you," Thor promised, his voice gentle. "Your lover will return. All will be well, Anthony. Breathe. Just breathe, and we will get through this. We are warriors; we can handle this. I am here with you."

After a few minutes more of slow, steady breathing, Tony finally nodded, opening his eyes. He leaned over and hugged Thor tight, shaking; Thor wrapped broad, strong arms around his waist and hugged him back.

"Thanks," Tony whispered. "I really, really needed that."

"So I assumed," Thor said, amused. "Why don't we go see where we are most needed right now, Anthony?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "We're gonna have to get our work done fast, now. Hopefully by tomorrow..."

"We can only hope," Thor replied as he helped Tony out of the car, the two of them going to see what could be done with the others as they worked eagerly for their projects to be finished.

...

"Bucky's helped out with the serum quite a bit," Erik said as Tony welded a few more restraints into place, "but we'll have to wait until we leave here to even think of building things. No sense in throwing them together in a day and having to transport even more bulk."

"True," Tony agreed, though he didn't look thrilled, "we'll be fine in the end...but I want Steve back, Erik."

"I know," Erik said, putting a hand on Tony's shoulder. "He'll be back soon, Tony. You'll bring him back. Just give us some time; you need to take things one at a time. If you don't, you'll trip and fall over them, I think. And Steve's not here to pick you up if you do."

Tony looked so defeated then, his shoulders hunched and his eyes dark and heavy, that Erik wanted to take it back. But it got him working again, with a renewed determination this time; as Erik watched him, he could believe that they might, in fact, have the radiation chamber in place by tomorrow.

Outside the chamber, Jane frowned and continued to fiddle with the machine before them. Mjolnir occasionally pulsed with magic as she did, before eventually, she threw her hands up and sighed.

"I just can't do it, Thor," she said, "I don't know how to put the last piece into place, I really don't! I can't just—"

"You ask for a machine of magic to work as science tells it that it ought," Thor said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We are summoning Loki. If I call to him, he will come; he is within me now, and his soul would respond."

"Ignoring how that could be horribly misconstrued, I don't want the trip to go badly somehow because the machine isn't working, Thor!" Jane said. "I'd never forgive myself if I ruined things for you..."

"You will not," Thor said firmly, stroking her hair with a warm, calloused hand, "I have utter and complete faith in you, Jane Foster. I know you are worthy. You ought to understand this as well."

"I try, I try...but I'm scared, Thor. It's all on me if this fails. I just..." Jane swallowed and shook her head. "No matter what happens, we have to try it tomorrow. We can't delay much longer, and we're not leaving without him, are we?"

"Never," Thor said. "It would be like dying all over again to have him lost to me."

"You love him that much, huh?" Jane said, raising her eyebrow. Thor chuckled.

"He is an arrogant, vain, fastidious brat with a mouth that either works independently of his brain or far too well with it, as well as a snide, spiteful little fiend with mercurial moods and capricious affections," Thor said. "How could I not?"

Jane laughed. Thor shook his head, smiling, as he looked up at the sky.

"No, no; he is all those things, but he has his tender moments, his vulnerabilities and his soft places, as any man would. He is clever and he is fair of face, and he has charm and brilliance and wit. I love him more than I can say; fortunately, his silver tongue fills in the gaps for me." Thor said. 

Jane nodded, leaning on his shoulder and closing her eyes. Thor stroked her hair, rubbing the tension from her shoulders as his hand traveled down.

"You are such a romantic," Jane said with a smile. "It's really cute. I hope...I hope he appreciates it. And I hope you two are happy."

"Not now, no," Thor murmured, "but we will be, given time. I believe that; I cannot think of any other outcome."

"Good," she mumbled into his shoulder. "That stubbornness of yours works to your advantage sometimes, huh?"

Thor chuckled and nodded.

"Indeed it does, but he is stubborn as well, when he wants something," Thor said. "He is a bit of a brat, but he will behave when he joins us; I'll ensure it."

"I bet you will," Jane teased, a smile on her face. Thor blinked.

"What?" He asked. Jane chuckled.

"Nothing, Thor. C'mon; let's see if we can get this running any better," she said. Thor nodded, settling in eagerly beside her as they began to work.

...

"So...that just happened," Devon said as they climbed back into their car. "We just got our asses handed to us by a god."

"Yep," Annaby said with a frown. "Have I mentioned I don't like magic? Because I don't. And I _really_ don't like gods."

"Me neither," Devon agreed. "So...we've got to tell the Director, right?"

"Mhm; I'll let him know once we reach safe ground. Frankly, I want to get the hell away from here; if they come back, we can't survive another round. We'll get to a safe place and I'll call him from there; you good for driving?" Annaby asked. Devon nodded.

"Yeah, Prester; you hold on, I'll keep us safe," she promised with a grin, turning the keys in the ignition and peeling off. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax as she contemplated the inevitability of having to talk to Fury about what had just transpired.

The drive, of course, was not as long in delaying the inevitable as she would have liked. Annaby found herself standing outside beneath a cold, dark sky and dialing the Director's number.

 _"What did you find?_ " The first thing that crackled over the line made Annaby blink, surprised.

"Oh, hello, Commander," she said. "We've got news. We were down near the site of the Destroyer battle and we found another Asgardian. A woman this time. There was someone with her, but we didn't see them; my money would be on another god, more likely than not."

 _"We're in an alliance with Asgard,"_ Maria replied. _"What was the matter?"_

"Evidently, she didn't seem to think so, seeing as she threw us through a wall, Commander Hill. I doubt they're too keen on us after we killed their king, let's be honest," Annaby sighed. "What do we do?"

 _"I'll speak to the Director. You don't need to worry, agents. Stay there; we'll probably need you shortly,"_ The Commander paused for a second _._

_"Stay safe. They're not human. And they're much, much stronger than you think."_

"Will do, Commander. You just let him know we're still here," Annaby said. "Alert us if there's any changes?"

 _"As soon as possible, Prester. Keep an eye on your partner, she's new to field. I'll send a squad down if I can get him to agree,"_ Maria promised, before Annaby heard a click in her ear. She sighed and hung up, turning back to Devon, who was sprawled out over the hood of their car.

"Prester, I want a sandwich," she said. "I got my ass kicked by a warrior goddess, I'm pretty sure that merits a club sandwich. Or a dozen."

Annaby chuckled despite herself, ruffling Devon's hair as she came to sit on the hood of the car.

"We'll be fine," she promised. "Don't worry about it. I'll keep you safe, I swear. And I'll pay for dinner."

Devon grinned as the two of them got into the car, driving off to find the nearest diner, allowing themselves the small break as they prepared for what lay ahead.

...

Maria sighed and hung up, waiting for Fury to arrive. A few minutes later, in a rush of leather, he did; he was like a shadow as he sat at his desk, quiet and calm and implacable.

"Sir," she said after a beat of silence, "I have word from our agents out in Puente Antiguo that we have contact with more Asgardians. One of them challenged the agents to a fight, and apparently, she was not alone, though they didn't see who was with her."

"I'm not surprised," Fury said. "We killed their king. They're angry. I'm going to deal with that shortly, Hill, don't worry."

"But how, sir?" Maria asked, tilting her head. "We have the two agents out there right now, but not much else in the way of men..."

"Phase 2 is almost ready," Fury replied. "Ten men with one of those weapons is worth more than a platoon. Just trust me. I will have this taken care of by the end of the week." He was quiet, considering; he watched her, not speaking, before finally, he smiled.

"Go home, Hill. You don't believe me when I say I'm handling it. You're stressed, and you want to be in control. Relax. Just go home, go take care of Victoria, and have a drink. This will be sorted out when you come into work tomorrow." He promised.

Maria nodded curtly, offering a quiet, "Yes, sir," before leaving his office, taking out her phone to call Victoria as she went. 

Fury watched her leave, completely silent and still. 

Then he picked up his phone to call the weapons department.

...

Everyone went to bed that night a little more well-rested and at ease; the last of the preparations were to be made in the morning, and then they would be off—hopefully with Loki and Bruce in tow.

Before going to sleep, however, Tony knew he had a call to make.

"JARVIS, link me up to Pepper. Tell her she needs to take this one privately, so she doesn't freak out near any bugs, all right?" Tony said. JARVIS whirred.

 _"Yes, sir,"_ he replied, and as Tony picked up his phone, he could hear JARVIS making the call already.

Back in New York, Pepper was just setting dinner down on the table, Phil humming contentedly as he washed the pots and pans in the kitchen. It had been hard for him to restrain _all_ his happiness at knowing his lovers were safe; that said, a sudden uptick in cheerful moods wasn't something they wanted S.H.I.E.L.D. to know about, so Phil was good about restricting it for the most part.

She got a call, and as she went to go for her phone, JARVIS whirred, " _I suggest you take this privately, madam."_

"Sure, JARV," Pepper agreed, stepping outside after signaling quickly to Phil. 

" _Hey, Pep,"_ she heard, a warm voice loving in her ear. " _How're things with you and Phil?"_

Pepper took a moment to savor the sound of Tony's voice, something she had thought she would spend the rest of her life without hearing, before smiling and replying, "Fine, Tony. How are things with your gang?"

_"Pretty good. I hope Bruce thinks so, too."_

Pepper almost dropped her phone in shock.

"Is he—"

 _"We have the radiation chamber set up, thanks to the boys' help; they're fine, by the way. Dealing with the Hulk at first might be a bit...well, frantic, but...in the end, Bruce should be good as new,"_ Tony told her. " _If you want, I'll call you when we do it; it'll be early in the morning, before you go to work. I mean...if you want to hear him."_

"Yes," Pepper said, her voice clogged by tears, "yes. Yes, Tony, I....I want to hear him."

 _"I figured. We're gonna have to move; after you get to talk to Bruce, we're gonna find a new hiding place and then let you know where we are after that. We're gonna have to get the serum chamber built, but that won't take too long, and then...then we're going to war, I guess,"_ Tony said. _"We'll be all right. We have you. You and Phil be careful; I'll see you in the morning. I love you, Pep."_

"Love you too, Tony," she said with a watery smile. "See you in the morning."

Tony hung up after that, leaving Pepper a moment alone with her thoughts.

Bruce would be with her again, and soon. 

That thought alone left her smiling for the rest of the night; she couldn't help it.


	36. Radiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony plays Victor Frankenstein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually that's doubly hilarious because as far as I remember, the Hulk was actually based off of Boris Karloff's Frankenstein (at least in appearance) and Jekyll and Hyde; Bruce is basically a mismash of hammer horror films. Throw some bloodlust and a British accent in, along with a touch of excess hair, and you're gold.  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy! I cut this part in two mostly for dramatic purposes; the next update will be quicker to compensate.

The next morning, Pepper was up at five in the morning; she let Phil rest, dressing as quietly as she could. Phil had been through enough, and the thought of waking him up made her wince. He deserved his rest.

She kissed his forehead and went downstairs, brewing some coffee and making herself a cup, her hands shaking. She hoped S.H.I.E.L.D. would write off her early rising as insomnia, a morning to appreciate the sunrise, anything but listening to her lover being raised from the dead. 

To be fair, she reasoned as she poured her coffee, that wouldn't really be anyone's first guess about, well, _anything._

Pepper laughed at that before she could stop herself, shaking her head as she finished up a huge, hot mug of coffee and went outside, finding a quiet bench near the house to sit as she picked up her phone. 

"JARVIS, contact Tony for me when he's ready to begin?" Pepper said. "I can wait; I made coffee.

 _"Certainly, madam. It will not be much longer, fear not. They need to leave, and quickly,_ " JARVIS said. Pepper nodded. 

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll be here, JARV."

She settled in to wait, sipping her coffee as the night sky twinkled invitingly above her with promises of her lover, just beyond her reach.

...

Loki stood at the edge of his balcony, watching the sky.

"You miss him," Frigga said gently as she entered his room. "You've been in here moping all day, my dove."

"I'm healed, mother," Loki replied. "Can I not go to him? He has need of me. There is a war on, and I wish to fight alongside him."

"I know, Loki..." Frigga sighed and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek. She relished the fact that she was the only one allowed to touch him, selfish as it was. 

Loki relaxed willingly into her touch as she nudged him back inside and onto the bed, so that she could brush and braid his hair, as she had done for the entire week. Loki's hair shone now, sleek and soft and free of tangles or grease, and he looked well-fed, well-rested, and, for the first time in a long time, well cared for. Frigga observed her son with pride before kissing both his cheeks and settling in to brush his hair in long, smooth strokes.

"Listen to me, my love," Frigga said, her voice soft and gentle as she separated the strands of Loki's hair. "I admit, you are fully healed. But it has only been two weeks since you have returned, and you spent one of those weeks lost to me, teetering on the brink of death. I have had but a week to be your mother again, after you thought you would be without home or family for as long as you lived." 

Frigga sighed, shaking her head and stroking the back of his neck as she sunk into thought.

"Loki...I am keeping you here partially because I wish you to know you are not alone, nor is your only support in the world your brother...but out of selfishness, as well. I admit; I simply want to be your mother again. I have missed you dearly," Frigga confessed.

Loki was quiet. For a time, he simply allowed her to brush his har, braiding it; it was a short braid, but she did it more to calm them both than make a statement regarding his hairstyle. Eventually, Loki turned around and hugged her.

"When this is all over," he promised, "I will come back. For your sake, mother, I will return. Thor would stay on Midgard forever, should you let him; I will return here. This is not my home, cannot be my home, but you...you are my mother. And that is more than enough reason to return."

Frigga began to sob, clinging to him tightly as her hands shook. Loki kissed her hair and let her cry; he was at a loss as for anything else he could do.

"My sons," she murmured, "oh, my _sons_..."

She kissed his forehead and held his hands, looking up at him with bright, wet eyes. 

"Promise me you'll come back alive," she said. "This is a mortal quarrel, mortal fighting; please, Loki. This is not your battle. I want you home alive."

"No, mother, but it's Thor's...and that makes it mine in a sense. If only for his sake," Loki kissed her cheek. "Regardless, I will return home safely, I assure you. Now, mother..." He smiled. "I'm not leaving for awhile yet, fear not. Another day, perhaps. Stay with me?"

"Always," Frigga whispered, hugging him tight. Loki hugged her back, holding her close and letting her seek comfort with him as the moon rose above Asgard.

...

"It is agreed, then," Thor said as he and Tony stood at the sunrise; Tony held a remote in his hands, goggles perched on his head, and Thor's hammer was in his hand. "I will fetch Bruce and then return to Asgard for Loki. Should Bruce prove to be unstoppable, you will contain him until I may return and challenge the Hulk. Is that our plan?"

"Most of it, yeah," Tony agreed. "Get Jane to start up the transporter, then give it a blast from Mjolnir. That, plus the circle itself, should kickstart you enough to get you up to Asgard, right?"

"We are hoping," Thor replied. "Belay that action for a time; let me go and return Bruce to you, Anthony."

"...Okay," he murmured. "Thanks, Thor. I...I'll be waiting here."

Thor smiled, patted his shoulder, and raised his hammer. In a bolt of lightning, he was gone. Tony just looked at the skyline for awhile, quiet, as he waited for Bruce and Thor both to return.

It didn't take long; Thor was as eager to get this over with as Tony, so desperate to bring his Loki home. Tony helped him bear Bruce's casket as they carried it into the radiation chamber, setting it up.

"Right," Tony said as he turned around to the assembled crew, "Darcy, no offense, but stick with the warriors. Sif, keep them safe. I've seen the Hulk in action—it isn't pleasant. At all. Erik, you too; I can handle the radiation business myself. Thor, keep an eye on Jane; Clint, Nat, you know him as well as Thor and I do. Keep an eye on Bucky and protect everyone else. Got it?"

"Okay," Darcy said. "Believe me, getting in between you and the Hulk isn't exactly my idea of a fun time. We'll go. Far."

"Not too far, I might need you, but all right," Tony agreed. "All of you, scram; I can take it from here. And be _safe,_ damn it."

"You cannot stay here alone, Anthony, I will not allow it!" Sif protested. "Darcy, please, I am sworn to you, but he cannot be alone, I must—"

"I won't be alone," Tony said. "I'll have Bruce."

Sif stopped, watching him. Tony's trust was clear as he touched the casket, and his pain just as obvious. He was not a man to bear his grief in public. She would allow him privacy. It was the more honorable thing to do.

She clasped his shoulder and walked away, herding the others out as Darcy piped up, "Hey, since when were you _sworn_ to us?"

Tony had one last time for a laugh before he put on his armor, flipped the radiation switch, turned on his phone, and set the Hulk loose.

It wasn't an immediate thing, of course. But Tony knew it was coming. He watched as Bruce's body began to glow green, his whole body pulsing with the radiation. His skin seemed to accept it, absorb it, with love and relief rather than pain or cancerous, creeping dread; it glowed in warm swirls as it bled through his veins and into his bones, through his mind and into his heart.

It took a few minutes for the radiation to settle in back at home, like it had dropped its bags at the door and was only now unpacking them to get the house back to normal, but once everything was put into its proper place...

Tony saw Bruce's fingertips twitch. 

He smiled, shaking his head in awe as he spoke into the phone, "Pep, you there? He's moving."

 _"He is? Oh, thank god. Bruce! BRUCE!"_ Pepper shouted. _"Bruce, I'm_ here!"

His hands began to move as if in response, fingers flexing and curling. His toes began to twitch and curl as well, his feet turning inward as his legs began to move, his knees bending just a bit as he relaxed. Tony watched, waiting, eyes wide. 

Bruce's arms began to flex, just minor back and forth movements, but movement all the same. His lips parted, and Tony finally saw movement in his chest, his stomach expanding as he breathed. Eventually, Tony saw him tilt his head, and then, finally, finally, he opened his eyes.

When he did, they were bright green.

Tony backed away slowly, hesitant. He watched Bruce carefully. The Hulk was an inevitability, but it might be a tamed one if he was careful, if he watched closely, if he had his repulsors ready.

The radiation began to glow beneath Bruce's skin again, only the glowing, swirling mix had begun to pulse, pushing its way outward and breaking the casket. His muscles began to twitch and shudder, expanding and groaning beneath the weight of new life; as Tony watched, the radiation faded, only to leave green skin in its place.

_"Tony? Tony, what's happening—"_

"He's Hulking out, Pep," Tony told her. "Don't worry. I'm in the armor, and right now, he's calm. As calm as the Hulk ever gets, anyway. I'll try to talk him down; once I do, we'll have Bruce back, good as new. Just, uh...let me get him to that point. Don't hang up."

 _"How could I?"_ Pepper said. _"Be_ careful, _damn it."_

"When am I not?" Tony teased. 

_"All the time."_

He really couldn't argue with her there, so he just focused his attention back onto Bruce. The Hulk shuddered and groaned in pain as he stood; Tony, thankfully, had ensured the ceiling of the chamber would be enough to hold the Hulk without causing a concussion on his end.

"Hey, buddy," Tony said, seeing the Hulk turn to him and grunt with surprise. "It's me...it's me, Tony. 'Member me, bud? Your science bro?"

"Bo," the Hulk confirmed. "Scien bo." 

"Yep, that...that'd be me," Tony said, his voice thicker with emotion than he would've liked. "How...how you doin', buddy?"

"Good," the Hulk replied. "Hurt. I hurt. Whole body is ow. Fix?"

"I think I know how, buddy," Tony said, seeing his way out and pouncing on it. "If you shrink down to bite-sized Bruce again, we can fix you up, okay? You gotta let Bruce out, though. When I fix him, you'll be fixed, too."

The Hulk was quiet, hunched over as if he was seriously contemplating it. Tony couldn't believe his luck. This was working. This. Was. Working. And then, and then Bruce—

 _"Bruce? Darling, it's me, Pepper. Bruce, please. Let Tony fix you. I_ miss you _. Please, Bruce, come back to me. Please,"_ Pepper begged, _"I love you. Please...come back._ "

The Hulk tilted his head, looking at the phone. He reached out his hand, as if to take it.

"Pep?" He said. "Pep. My Pep."

Before she could reply, all hell broke loose.

In that moment, three things happened at once.

First; Thor struck the transporter with a burst of lightning, and as the circle of power glowed and crackled, alive with lightning, he disappeared in a bright flash, back up towards the Bifrost and Asgard.

Second; the hammer blast startled the Hulk, and with a harsh, agonized scream, he broke through the radiation chamber, anger and rage making him roar up at the desert skies, his eyes wild.

Third; Tony was flung through the chamber and sent skidding, groaning in pain as he stood up. Pepper was shouting Bruce's name through the phone as he re-orientated himself.

"Hold on, babe," Tony said, "I gotta go fix this, now. Before S.H.I.E.L.D. finds him."

" _Take him to me!"_ Pepper screamed. _"Tony, take him to me_ now, _he_ needs me, _please_ —"

"Okay, okay! Hold on, hold on!" Tony said, soaring off after the Hulk after doing a quick scan of his teammates, ensuring they were all safe. "Hell, maybe you could do a better job than me..."


	37. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets a pep talk. Darcy is still my favorite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reunion! And one on the way! Hooray, hooray!  
> Also apparently Erik was referencing Hank Pym in the Thor reference according to some friends? But lol fuck that it's gonna be Bruce, ilu Hank bb but come on.

Pepper swallowed, gripping the phone tightly and ignoring her shaking hands. She could hear Bruce. She could _hear him_. His voice was rougher, slower, the Hulk's voice, the Hulk's body, but Tony would fix it, fix _him_ , and she would be with him again, and all would be well, she just had to...had to...

"Bruce," she whispered, "Bruce, oh Bruce, hang on, hang on..."

She clung to the phone as she heard the roaring. Nothing good could come of the Hulk, not now. Bruce was frightened, and whatever had made him react like that spelled trouble for the whole group. She had to do something.

"Take him to me!" Pepper shouted. "Tony, take him to me _now_ , he _needs me,_ please—"

 _"Okay, okay! Hold on, hold on!"_ Tony said, and she could hear the armor whirring as he soared off after the Hulk. _"Hell, maybe you could do a better job than me..."_

Pepper could only hope so. Tony's words soothed her, but not enough, and it was with a heavy heart that she sat down and waited for Tony, still gripping her phone as tightly as she possibly could.

Back in New Mexico, Tony flew after the Hulk; he was fast, but the Hulk was frightened, and that made him run without concern or cause for his stamina or anything but the simple animal instinct to get away _now._

"Bruce!" Tony shouted. "Bruce, come back! Bruce, please, I have Pepper!"

He paused for a second, but it wasn't enough; he would be noticed soon, he was heading towards the town, and god, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—

"BRUCE!" Tony yelled, an idea occurring to him. "BRUCE, PEPPER'S IN DANGER!"

That had the Hulk skidding to a sudden stop, whirling around to look at Tony, his eyes wide with fright and panic.

"Pep?" He said, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Pep hurt? Bo, help. Pep hurt."

"Yeah, buddy, Pep hurt," Tony said, coming closer and letting his faceplate go, so the Hulk could meet his eyes and recognize him. "Pep hurt, a lot. Talk to her?"

"No Pep," the Hulk said, looking around. "Where Pep? Want Pep."

"Pep's here, buddy," Tony said, proffering the phone to him. "Can't you hear her?"

The Hulk growled into the phone, and that was when Pepper knew it was her cue. Sitting on the bench, its cold stone pressing into her skin as she shook, she gripped her phone and did her best to smile.

"Bruce, it's me," she said. _"_ It's me, Pepper. I'm here, my love. I've waited so long for you to come back. Don't go anywhere now, okay? I can't see you if you go away."

 _"Pep!"_ The Hulk cried, and the delight in his tone made Pepper want to weep. " _But Pep already gone..._ "

"No, Bruce," she promised. "I'm right here. I know you can't touch me, but you can hear me, and I promise, I'm here...I love you, Bruce...oh, god, _please._..I'm here, _I'm here,_ I never left, I was here waiting, all this time..."

Tony closed his eyes and shuddered a little. He could barely imagine the weight she had borne in his absence, and his guilt was a physical, quivering beast as he held the phone.

The Hulk reached out and touched the phone, hesitant.

 _"Waiting? Ssh, Pep. No waiting. Here now. Long wait?"_ He asked.

"Yes, Bruce," Pepper said. "It was, but that's okay. You're here now, right? And you're going to be here forever?"

 _"Yes!"_ The Hulk said. _"Yes, Pep. Forever."_

"Okay, baby," Pepper said, smiling through a veil of tears, her face blotchy and her eyes red, "do me a favor, then? Go home with Tony and let him fix you up so you can wait for me without being hurt or sick, okay? Then we can be together, very soon. Please, Bruce. You're almost there. Come back to me. Just _come back to me._ The door's open, Bruce. I'm right here."

The Hulk took the phone and cradled it in his enormous hands, looking down at the picture of Pepper on the screen. Tony backed off, just watching.

He came back to himself in degrees, shrinking slowly until eventually, Bruce stood before them both, his hands still holding onto the phone.

He lifted it up to his ear and smiled.

"Me too," he said, and the shuddering gasp that ripped through the phone and straight into his ear after he spoke was for him and him alone to hear. "Thanks for leaving the door open, Pep."

 _"It was my pleasure,_ " Pepper said. _"Are you coming in?"_

"Already there," Bruce promised. "Are you...are you..."

 _"Safe? Sort of. Phil's here. He's protecting me. Until you can do it, I mean. For now...protect yourself, Bruce. Keep yourself safe so I can be with you,_ " Pepper paused.

 _"I love you, you know,_ " she said. "I _love you more than anything."_

"Me too, Pep," Bruce said, a few tears running down his face. "Me too. I...I'll be safe. For your sake."

He swallowed, hard. It hurt to be reunited with Pepper only to be ripped from her seconds later, but he had no choice; they had no time _. Soon,_ he promised himself _, soon._

"Goodbye, Pep," he said. "Have...have a good day, okay? See you later."

 _"I will,"_ she said, and he could hear the hundreds of unshed tears in her voice when she spoke, _"I will. I love you. Goodbye, Bruce."_

The two of them hung up just as each of them burst into tears.

Tony just came closer, wrapping hesitant arms around Bruce's shoulders and letting him cry with someone there to hug him. Bruce didn't say anything, but Tony could feel him relax, just a little.

"She's alive," Tony said, "and so are you. It'll be okay." He swallowed. "I missed you a lot, bud."

"Missed you too, Tony," Bruce said, reaching up to squeeze his hand. "Where...where are we?"

"East Bumblefuck, New Mexico," Tony said with a smile as he heard Bruce snort, giggling. "In all seriousness; we're back where Thor was when he was being Kurt Cobain and trashing diners. We've got to move soon, though. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s after us."

Bruce was quiet.

"Get me back there," he demanded suddenly, his eyes sharp. "I doubt anyone's actually planned on being on the run, have they?"

"Not like you could, bud," Tony agreed, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Mind if we fly? It'll get us there faster."

"No, but...do you happen to have pants?" Bruce haphazarded, gesturing down to his mostly-naked lower half. "These weren't really designed for the other guy."

Tony laughed, dissembling his armor long enough to strip off his own pants and toss them to Bruce; as Bruce dressed, Tony put the armor back on and hugged Bruce as tightly as possible without hurting him in the armor.

"God, I've missed you so, so much..." Tony said. "I've got a lot to tell you, bud. We've been through a lot."

"I can imagine," Bruce replied, clinging to Tony as they soared through the open sky, back towards the small encampment. "Are you...are you okay? I mean, he isn't..."

"Not yet," Tony said, his voice rough and pained, "not yet, but...soon. Soon, we just—I just, I mean—I can fix him, I—"

"Tony, it's okay," Bruce said, giving him a small smile. "Relax. I'll help."

Even though the armor was still unyielding against him, he could almost feel Tony relaxing within the suit.

"Thanks," Tony said. "We'll get it done. I just know it."

He alighted down, setting Bruce onto the ground as carefully as he could; Bruce smiled until he caught sight of the others; he ran a hand through his hair, suddenly shy.

"This is Bruce Banner," Tony said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "he's my bro. He's gonna be helping us fix shit, and also, not die when we end up in the middle of nowhere on the run."

Bruce shrunk into himself despite Tony's kind words; there were too many people, and all of them were regarding him with interest, or apprehension, or—

"Bruce!"

Bruce perked up as he recognized someone; he was pulled into a hug immediately after. Erik hugged him tight, patting his shoulder and beaming.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," he enthused. "Been a rough few years on you?"

"You could say that," Bruce agreed. He was safe. Erik wasn't mean. Erik didn't tease him or ignore him. Erik was good. He was safe. "It's...been hard, yeah. But...I got through it. And I'm here to help."

"Good, we could use it," a slight girl said, standing at his shoulder and giving him a look. "Name's Darcy, Darcy Lewis. You're that dude Tony talks about? The one that's only sort of his boyfriend, not his actual boyfriend?"

"Um...yes?" Bruce said. "It's...nice to meet you?"

"Yeah, same! Are you gonna teach us how to live off the fat of the land and eat squirrels, or is that like, an Advanced Fugitive From Society class?" Darcy asked.

Bruce just stared at her like he wasn't sure whether to be terrified of her or amused by her.

"Don't worry, she's just teasing; don't let it get to you," another woman said. "Hello, Doctor Banner; my name is Jane Foster. I'm very interested in your work."

"Um, thank you," Bruce said. "It's good to meet you." He looked around. "So...um, good to meet everyone, but what's going on?"

"We are waiting for Thor," someone else spoke up. "Hello, doctor. I am the Lady Sif; these are my Warriors Three, Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg. You are one of Thor's shieldbrothers, yes?"

"S-sort of, yes," he agreed. "And why are we waiting on Thor?"

Sif's eyes glittered and she sighed, putting a hand on her hip and using the other to pinch the bridge of her nose; an oddly human gesture that, coming from a warrior goddess, ended up looking rather adorable.

"He has gone to fetch Loki," she said, her teeth so clenched that the words had to be ripped free syllable by syllable. "He will be back soon. After that, we must flee."

"Oh, okay," Bruce said, and an odd change came over him; he stood up straighter and a glimmer of determination began to sparkle in his eyes. "Well, then, while we wait for him...we've got a few things to take care of."

Tony grinned, seeing Bruce slip right into his element. As much as he hated having to pack up all his gear and move, knowing Bruce was already feeling needed and wanted was a relief.

...

Thor stood at the gates of Asgard, gripping his hammer as Heimdall regarded him. He wanted to ask, but he didn't know where to even begin.

"He has wept for you," Heimdall said. "He would never tell a soul; perhaps not even you. But he did not need to tell me so that I might know."

Thor nodded, bowing his head in recognition of his love.

Heimdall paused.

"He loves you," he finally said. "And he has ached for you."

"As I have in kind," Thor said, his voice rough and heavy with grief. "I have missed him, Heimdall. And I have loved him as well."

A small smile spread across his lips.

"As I assumed," he replied. "Go to him. Your mother may not appreciate it, but I have seen the war stirring upon Midgard; he is needed there, as are you."

He gestured to the palace. "However, you might speak with your father first."

"I will," Thor agreed. "Thank you, Heimdall. I will return shortly."

Heimdall inclined his head in acknowledgement as Thor strode towards the palace; he could already hear the shouts of welcome and excitement from the guards. He waved at them, but his mind was in other places, millions of them, and keeping that many trains of thought going at once was more his brother's specialty. Thor just had a headache.

Still, he knew one thing; Loki would be in his arms again soon.

The corollary to that, unfortunately, was that he had to speak to his father first. Thor did not want to speak to anyone; he wanted to be with Loki.

That said, he knew what he had to do, and so he held his head high and went into the palace.

He was not prepared for the sight of the father; he looked worn and tired, and so very old. To see his father in such a state made him shudder before he could stop himself. He just bowed, choked down his concern, and came to stand in front of the throne.

"Hello, father," he said. "I have returned to bring Loki back to Midgard; we are needed there. I fear this is beginning to turn to outright war."

Odin was quiet for a few minutes. Thor's stomach began to seethe with worry. Had the vigil taxed his father more than anticipated? What could possibly be the matter?

"Perhaps you could do more for him than I can," Odin said, his voice heavy. "It hurts to know my son would rather return to a battlefield than remain here."

"Well," Thor said, shaking his head, "father, I am there as well; he desires my company, needs my presence, and I am sure—"

"That is a reason, of course," Odin said, cutting him off, "but not the only one. Loki needs you. But he truly needs to be as far away from his father as is possible."

He put his head in his hand, looking out at the skies of Asgard; whatever he glimpsed there made him wince, closing his eyes tight.

"He has been home for a week, alive and well," he said. "The only conversation we had was a shouting match. He has not asked to see me since."

"Father..." Thor trailed off. "I am no wordsmith, but...he is hurt. This will take time to heal. I will do what I can, but..."

"But it will never be the way it was before," Odin said, a dead, dry finality to his tone. "I know, Thor. The challenge is not getting Loki to forgive me, nor trust me; the challenge for me lies in learning to recognize that he never will."

Thor had never seen his father cry. He did not see it then, on the throne of Asgard, but he knew in that moment that, in more private quarters, Odin had wept, and it shook him to his core.

"There can still be love without forgiveness," Thor said. "If you learn to accept, and he learns to let go. Perhaps, father. I do not know; this is no expertise of mine. I can only hope for the best, as you do."

"Thank you, Thor," Odin said. "I need to reflect on my own thoughts for a time. I will speak to the others about further reinforcements. From now on, Huginn and Muginn will act as my go-betweens from your encampment to Asgard. Understood?"

"Yes, father," Thor replied, inclining his head. Odin nodded.

"Very well. He's in his room with your mother; go to him, won't you?" He said. The utter longing in his voice gave Thor a moment's pause.

"I will," he finally said, "for the both of us."

He let Odin be after that. If his father wept once he was gone, he did not bear witness to it.


	38. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother's love. A reunion, a return, a departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So, the not-dead or Phil'n'Pepper parts of the gang are all good now, yay! Not much to say, hope you like this one.

Frigga heard the knock at the door and saw the way Loki's face lit up when it did. That alone was enough to tell her who had arrived.

The fact that he burst through the door without waiting for a "Come in, dear," clued her in even more, however.

 _"Loki,"_ Thor said, and the ache in his voice made Frigga flinch. "Loki, I have returned."

"So I've noticed," Loki replied, but Frigga could see the genuine tilt to his smile, the glimmer of love in his eyes. "Got bored of your Midgardian friends and returned for me, then?"

"Not bored, brother; we are both needed down on Midgard," Thor said, his eyes dark. "The only person right now who has the capability to save us is a powerful mage. You are the strongest I know. I may be a warrior, meant to protect and defend, but I will not be enough; please, Loki. You said you were so eager to fight beside me—well, now I am giving you the chance. Brother, my shieldbrothers are in danger..."

Loki nuzzled his neck and grinned against his skin, sharp with amusement. 

"Well, if you continue to stroke my ego like that while we are on Midgard, I find it hard to refuse," he replied. "I have missed your ham-handed attempts at flattery, oaf."

"I love you, Loki," Thor said, his voice tender as he cupped his cheek. 

"See what I mean?" Loki grumbled.

Thor laughed and gave him a warm, soft kiss; it was only after he got over the initial shuddering thrill of his soulmate's lips on his own that he realized his mother was still in the room.

He pulled away with a nervous grin as Frigga regarded them both. There was an awkward beat of silence between the whole family. 

"You ought to be grateful you were adopted, Loki," she said, her voice stern but her bearing relaxed and her eyes amused, "which means I will hear no more complaints about your place within this family now, am I understood?"

"Yes, mother," Loki mumbled, his relief clear as he gripped Thor's cape. "I...I suppose it worked out for the best, in the end."

"Indeed it did," Thor said. "Now, fair Loki; gather what you need and meet me at the edge of the Bifrost. I need to speak to mother before we go."

"Very well," Loki agreed before turning back to Frigga. He kissed her forehead and took her hand for the briefest of moments. When he pulled away, it was only to place his furs around her shoulders.

"Thank you, mother," he murmured. "For everything. I am truly grateful. And I will return, I swear it."

Frigga nodded, keeping her face neutral and her lips pursed tight as Loki pulled away and went to pack. He understood, and so he did not push the matter further as he left the room; his mother's love went with him, and he did not need to hear or feel it any longer to know.

Frigga's composure lasted until Thor pulled her close; with that, she balled her fists up into his cape and burst into tears.

Thor held his mother close and stroked her hair, kissing her forehead and allowing her a few moments to weep in his arms. She had been strong for Loki this whole time; she had never deserved a moment of weakness and sorrow more, and for that, Thor held her close and dried her tears as best as he could.

Eventually, Frigga pulled away with bright, wet eyes, looking up at him and taking his hands.

"You'll watch over him, won't you?" She said, her voice soft. "You've always loved him, Thor. A mother knows. And this...this is a place where I cannot follow you." Tears filled her eyes. "Again. Yet again, I have failed you."

"You have not," Thor said, his voice stern and loving as he stroked her hair. "You have given us the courage and strength to do this, mother. Even though it hurts. It is only because of you that we might do this; I would not consider that a failure."

Frigga smiled, weak but warm, and she gripped his hands a bit tighter now.

"Thank you, my son," she murmured in reply. "You'll come home as soon as you are able, won't you?"

"As soon as it is possible," Thor promised. "We shall stay for a time, and find a way to make all of this work. First, however, we must make sure that all of this remains standing. And for that to be achieved...Loki and I must fight. Fear not, mother; all will be well. How could it not? We fight alongside each other now."

"I suppose," Frigga said, her shoulders hunched and her eyes dim. "Please be careful, Thor. Both of you. You're too hot-headed for your own good."

"I have no arguments there, mother, this is true, but Loki will cut me off at the knees with a tongue-lashing or two should I get ahead of myself. I do not have the same skill when  it comes to him, but I suppose I shall sit on him if I must." Thor said, trying to keep his tone as light as possible for his mother's sake. 

"We will return shortly, mother, alive and well," he promised, before he smiled and tilted her chin up. "A kiss for luck? And good tidings for the battle ahead?"

Frigga kissed his forehead and took his hand. 

"Blessings, my son," she murmured. "Keep him safe. And you, as well. Do not forget that you need care as much as Loki does. I will not be there to provide it."

"No, but he will be," Thor promised. "Neither of us shall want, mother. All will be well."

Frigga nodded, watching him slip away from her and leave without another word. She had nothing left to give but hope; that would remain unspoken, as much as her desires for her sons' safe return would in kind.

Thor shed a few tears when he knew he was alone; it did not matter how well he tried to hide it, however, considering when he arrived at the Bifrost, Loki's first move was to kiss the edges of his cheeks, where tear-tracks still shone.

"She will be safe," he said. "She is our mother, and as strong and tough as they come. I do not fear for her. Neither should you, Thor."

"I know, fair Loki," Thor sighed. "I will miss her, however."

"Ah," Loki agreed. "That...is a bit more understandable."

He took Thor's hand and squeezed it in solidarity. Thor just smiled as they went to the center gate of the Bifrost.

"So you agreed to go with him," Heimdall said. "Out of the kindness of your heart, surely."

"Or the ache between his legs," Thor remarked innocently, in a tone he thought too quiet for the Gatekeeper to hear. Loki punched him in response.

Heimdall simply chuckled and regarded both men; for a second, he saw the bright, young boys they had been, full of life and love. He saw the difference and no difference all at once as he looked on the men they had become.

"Good luck," was all he could say, solemn and soft. "Be safe. If you come to harm, you shall never hear the end of it from your mother."

"True," Thor agreed, smiling ruefully. "Fair thee well, Heimdall. We will return soon."

Loki slipped into the gateroom behind Thor, quiet as snow as Thor lifted his hammer. 

A bolt of lightning and the two of them were gone; Heimdall could only watch as they departed. The frustration that came from being able only to watch, yet never intervene, welled up in him hot and fierce as he thought of the two of them and the dangers they would soon face.

He would keep his post regardless; it was all he could do.

...

"It is ungodly hot down here," Loki griped, spitting dust from his mouth as he stretched his limbs. "How did you survive it?"

"The nights are cold," Thor replied. "In any case, it matters not; we have to hide somewhere else, regardless. Hopefully one of my shieldbrothers shall have a suggestion."

Loki nodded, following after Thor as he strode off; his lover seemed to know where he was going, and for once, Loki was content to let him lead. 

"Brothers!" Thor called, delighted. "Anthony, you have returned Bruce to us!"

"Yeah, I'm awesome," Tony said, not even looking up as he helped Dummy, Butterfingers, and You pack. "Bruce, Thor's home with his...uh..."

"Lover," Thor confirmed. "Loki, this is Anthony. I fear you two will get along splendidly."

"Charmed," Loki replied. "Thor, he _glows."_

"Thanks, I'm flattered," Tony said. 

"It is one of his inventions; it gives him life. Do not dwell too much on it, brother; it confuses me to this day," Thor said, patting his shoulder. "Now, onto more important matters. Bruce! I have missed you, dear friend!"

"Missed you too," Bruce said, suddenly crushed against Thor's enormous chest. "Not the hugs, though. I could live without my ribs being pulped."

Thor laughed and stroked his hair, ruffling it playfully as he set Bruce down again. 

"Forgive me, Bruce," he said. "I am simply glad to know you are all right. Is there anything I may do to help?"

"We're mostly packed," Bruce said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "To tell you the truth, Thor...the only thing that remains is the question of where we move to next. All of Tony's old houses are being watched, so...I'm at a loss."

"I may have a suggestion," Bucky spoke up. "There are abandoned bases from my old KGB group that were outfitted to house entire platoons for years on end. If we don't mind moving to Siberia, it could be perfect; there's space for Tony, Erik, Bruce, and Jane to work, and the warriors to train. Plus, showers." He winced. "It'll be a bit cold, but we'll manage."

"Cold?" Loki perked up. "Blessed be, the cold. I find myself fond of the idea. And surely I might be able to offer further protection using the snow we find ourselves in."

"Yeah, but just because you want to live like a fucking polar bear doesn't mean we do!" Darcy protested. "Jesus, maybe you don't have nipples to freeze off or something, but I do, and I like them un-frozen, thanks."

Loki turned around to look at her, surveying the girl before him with a sharp gaze. Darcy glared right back, her chin jutting out and her eyes defiant as she set her shoulders and stared him down.

"Do you have another suggestion, then?" Loki said, watching her carefully. 

"Well, when in doubt, you go with a place you know, right? Why don't we all head back to India? Didn't you live there, Bruce?" She demanded. Bruce nodded.

"Yes, but I don't want to bring Parvati and the others I lived with back in Calcutta into this, and Loki makes a good point; they won't think to look for us there, I can assume. It's isolated and easily defended." Bruce said. 

Darcy threw her hands up and sighed, shoulders sagging.

"Really? Fine. When my nipples snap off and I can use them like daggers, you're getting shanked through the eyes first, Loki," she retorted. 

Loki, to Thor's surprise, snorted.

"I like her," he muttered in Thor's ear, "may we keep her?"

"If you do not mind the occasional attacks from her lightning rod, yes," Thor said.

"I'm largely used to that by now," Loki said with a dramatic sigh. "What is your name, child?"

"Darcy Lewis. I zapped your brother with a taser and bought him pancakes. This is my girlfriend, Jane. She hit him with her car. Twice. Just, y'know, so you don't get any ideas about taking over or whatever," Darcy said. 

"I would never," Loki replied. "Truly, I'm terrified."

"Behave, brother," Thor said. "You may jest now, but her taser is a force to be reckoned with."

"Yeah, and if he makes it any fuckin' colder in Siberia, he'll see just how big a deal it is," Darcy grumbled, putting her hands in her pockets. "Are we gonna go, then? Or are we just gonna delay the inevitable?"

Loki chuckled as his hands began to glow pale blue, his eyes shining as he focused and pulled his magic inward, focusing on the man who had spoken and pulling his memories of the bases he spoke of out to examine. 

"If we are all packed, we shall go," he said. "Fear not, my lady. I am sure there are warming spells to be had."

"Oh, good," Darcy said, just as a flash of blue light took them and they were gone.

Only a few minutes later, a S.H.I.E.L.D. squadron pulled up. Annaby and Devon got out of their car, looked at the former campsite, and then back at each other.

"...So...you wanna call him this time?" Annaby said. 

Devon's face went pale.


	39. Moving Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone moves to Siberia. Some are more pleased than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really tired and sorry for a lack of updates; prom planning really killed me, sorry. Hope you don't mind, I made the chapter a bit longer, too. Thank you for being patient!  
> Honestly I BS'd 90% of Bucky's backstory for the sake of trying to fit him into the MCU, sorry. And his banter with Tony devolved into gay chicken pretty quickly, woops. (Also, pretty sure the AARP came after the new deal/Steve and Bucky's time period in general, but I researched this months ago, so I could be wrong; feel free to correct.)

"Just as I suspected," Darcy said, staring at the squat base and frowning. "It's colder than a witch's tit out here." She looked at Loki. "So I'm assuming you'll love the place."

"You are the one interested in breasts, not I," Loki remarked, his voice dry as he buried a hand in the snow. Instantly, wicked-looking icicles flowed free from the earth, glimmering in the dim light. They rose up and surrounded the base; spikes burst from the stems of the spires, aligning so that no one could pass through without being shredded. Loki hummed, pleased.

"It's good to know you haven't negatively influenced my magic, oaf," he remarked to Thor. "Strong as ever; and fear not, mortals, I can see the look in your eyes. These are meant to harm our enemies, not you."

Loki thrust his hand through a spike; it slipped through, and he was entirely bloodless as he yanked his hand away. Darcy whistled.

"Okay, frosty, congrats. Now can we stop the circle jerk over your ego and head inside?" She asked. Loki rolled his eyes and threw a snowball at her; she squealed and threw one back, but before it could escalate, Thor slung Loki over his shoulder, Sif doing the same to Darcy—and Jane, for good measure.

"What the hell? I didn't have anything to do with this!" Jane protested. Sif chuckled.

"You _might_ have, and that is excuse enough to carry you in my book," she replied. "Come. We ought to see what's inside."

"If it isn't showers, I'm gonna punch Loki right in his ice cold dick," Darcy grumbled, letting Sif kick down the door and bring them inside. Sif laughed.

"You and I both, my lady," she said, setting them down as Bucky looked around, closing his eyes and focusing on the layout in his mind. 

"Showers are downstairs; right above the lab, actually," Bucky said. "Dorms are on the floor above us. The kitchen is on this floor."

"Got it," Tony said, stretching out. "Showers for everyone, I figure. Then Bruce, Erik, and Jane, I need you all in the lab. Loki, can you move all our stuff in there?"

"Certainly," Loki replied, snapping his fingers. "Simple enough magic, mortal. I assume you are attempting to ressurrect the Captain? He is the last of your lost. And your lover, if I  read you both right."

Tony glared at him. Loki chuckled.

"That tells me I did, sure enough," he said, bowing deeply to the other man. Tony resisted the urge to feed him to Dummy. 

"Loki, do not tease," Thor said, lightly slapping his rear. Tony reveled in the sudden blush on Loki's face; that meant he had a lot to needle the god on. "A shower seems to be the most pertinent thing on our agenda. Bucky, if you might lead the way?"

"Uh, sure," Bucky said, shaking his head and startling himself out of his memories. He beckoned to the others and guided them downstairs, leting them pile on after him as he let his mind wander.

This had not been a good place for him, nor a happy one either. But it might bring Steve back to him, and that was all Bucky cared about.

He led everyone towards the showers; there were thankfully separate facilities, lest Tony start cracking jokes and end up getting eviscerated by Sif. Everyone was gone within minutes, and Bucky could hear the sound of running water shortly thereafter. He smiled, amused, and ducked into a shower for himself.

Once everyone was clean, and smelled less like they had been living in the middle of a desert for about a month, people split up; Bucky showed the Asgardians the training rooms and they were off, Thor dragged Loki off for what Bucky refused to think about, Clint, Darcy, and Natasha went upstairs to prepare for dinner, and the scientists headed down into the labs to see what could be done, technology-wise. 

Bucky found himself being dragged into that group; after all, Tony said emphatically, he was needed. Who else knew as much about the serum as he did?

Bucky would've protested, but then again—Steve. 

He grinned and bore it. For Steve's sake, anything.

...

"So, the KGB dosed you up on half-assed injections of the stuff?" Jane asked. Bucky nodded. 

"Yes, sort of; it was the serum itself, but without the Vita-Rays, it was largely useless in buffing me further. However, it kept me in the good condition I was already in, so I can't say it was _entirely_ pointless," Bucky explained. "They'd had access to scientists throughout all of World War II, and with some of Steve's DNA, probably from that time we fended off the Nazis at Stalingrad...well, unlocking the serum sequence was easy. Synthesizing it took another half a decade, and they never did get the Vita-Rays down...but they did have files on the serum, which are of course, now in my possession."

"Good," Tony said. "God, Phil would practically have an aneurysm if he could listen to you. Prepare to be hounded by the world's biggest fanboy when you meet him."

Tony took out the blueprints in front of him and frowned. "Be careful, though. He looks like a cute puppy when he's gushing over your pecs and your war stories, but he'll remind you he's a wolf quick enough when he's got to."

"Seems like an interesting fella," Bucky replied. "And you sound like you've had a bad run in with that wolfy side more than once, Stark."

"I recorded over his _Supernanny_ season premiere for the _Firefly_ marathon before he could watch it. I've never been tasered so hard in my _life_ , and I've fought Electro," Tony said. "Joke's on him, though, it just jazzed me up. I was awake for the next two days straight."

"I'm sure he was thrilled," Bucky said, his voice dry. "Do you annoy everyone in a five mile radius of you with practice or natural talent?"

"Speaking from experience, Barnes? I'd say yours is natural talent, look at that smug face, but belive me, the cultured among us enjoy crafting being a pain in the ass to a fine art. If I'm Van Gogh of assholery, you're like a kindergardener fingerpainting with shaving cream." Tony retorted.

"So, do you two like each other or hate each other? I can't tell," Jane said, opening the boxes of machinery with Dummy's help. Dummy beeped his similar confusion.

"Depends on if Barnes can get it up from that one, Jane," Tony said. 

"I bet you've heard that a lot lately," Bucky drawled. 

Tony's eyes widened. Erik looked away to try to hide a sudden grin, but he couldn't hide the snort of amusement. Jane didn't even bother. 

"...Oh, I _do_ like you, you little prick," Tony said, giving him a quick smile. "Tell me, though, between the two of us, which qualifies for AARP benefits?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Before my time, Stark," he said. "So it's gotta be you."

Tony laughed, shaking his head. 

"Ah, but I doubt I'll need them when I get them; in case you haven't noticed, I'm filthy rich." Tony replied.

"Really? The tee shirt could've fooled me," Bucky said. "What are you, the Midas of the five-and-dime?"

"Shut your uncultured mouth, this was signed by Ozzy Osborne himself!" Tony snapped. "Oh, right, I forgot, you're aboult as culturally on the up-and-up as my dead grandfather. Do I need to get you a television? We could watch the news, buy out a few porn networks."

"Deal," Bucky said, and Tony genuinely looked befuddled before reminding himself he couldn't back out now. 

"Good. Hope you like dick, bud. You are going to be up to your prostate in gay men. Welcome to the future." Tony said. 

"Is this how you showed Steve the future? Or am I just exceedingly lucky?" Bucky said.

"Well, his dick didn't go through seventy years in the wilds of Russia, so I was a bit more in favor of a hands-on demonstration," Tony said. 

"If the two of you would _please_ , for the sake of the work before us and basic human decency, sit down and work, it would be appreciated," Erik said.

Tony and Bucky stuck their tongues out at each other, but they settled in well enough after that, Tony making adjustments to the blueprints and moving a few things to begin setting the serum chamber up.

...

It was another few hours before dinner; Natasha and Clint came down to get them, and Tony noticed a flash of pain in Bucky's eyes, though he didn't remark upon it. He deserved some peace after all the ribbing he'd put him through.

Dinner was noisy, but not unpleasant; Tony had only just started to get used to happy, family-based meals. Howard had a tendency to drink at the table, and Tony had never wanted to eat with him whenever he could help it. Steve had started encouraging him to eat with the team, and he had started to warm up to it just around the time they all went on the run.

It was like starting from scratch again, but...not quite. His family was there, and bigger, too. But...Steve.

Still, Tony smiled throughout dinner, chattered on amicably, traded jabs with Loki and Darcy, and ate until his stomach ached. He went over plans with his group, promising to start honest-to-god production tomorrow, and, if he finished it in enough time, to fiddle with the machines here and see if he could get a secure internet connection with JARVIS' help.

Eventually, everyone left the table; Darcy grabbed her laptop and they all watched _Kiki's Delivery Service_ , then _The Cat Returns_ , until finally, Tony groaned and yawned.

"Lotta work to do in the morning, guys," he said. "Bed?"

"Wow, I'm shocked, Tony," Clint teased. "You in bed before 3 AM? Impressive."

"Oh, shut up, Clinty. It's been a long day," Tony said with a yawn, wriggling his toes and stretching out again, getting up and padding off towards the main floor. "See you all later, babes."

"Night," Darcy chimed back as she stood up. "C'mon, Jane, I want one more night with you before Tony Stark eats your soul or somethin'."

"He won't," Jane promised with a smile as they headed for their own room. "I won't let him. You're too important for that."

"Aw, thanks babe," Darcy said with a grin. She turned around to look at Sif, who was watching them quietly. "Hey, Sif? See you downstairs tomorrow. You're gonna kick ass for me, right?"

"Of course," Sif said, jumping slightly with shock. "Goodnight, Darcy. Sleep well. You too, Jane."

"We will, we will, laters!" Darcy said. "You guys go to bed too, we'll all end up waking up early if Tony's gonna be welding shit or whatever."

She disappeared with Jane after that, her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders as she beamed, letting Jane lead her upstairs. Sif watched them go before standing up suddenly, sharply, and storming off to bed.

"This is going to drive her mad, sure enough," Hogun said. "We are warriors; we were not made for this kind of downtime, and this romantic foolishness is bad enough."

"Yes, I know," Fandral said with a sigh. "Hopefully we'll have _something_ to do, and soon. I'm getting as bored as you, Hogun."

"In any case," Volstagg cut in, "we ought to be grateful. We may live for the fight, but our friends do not, nor should they. I would rather they not involve themselves in this."

"True," Hogun agreed, "but we cannot wait forever. I doubt the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. shall allow it."

"And when they come, Hogun, we will be ready," Volstagg promised. "Now, lads, bed; we've work to do in the morning, same as they."

The two of them groaned, but Volstagg's word among the group was absolute; they headed to bed after another stern glare or two.

Everyone else broke apart after that easily enough—save Bucky, who watched Clint and Natasha walk off, quiet. He didn't say anything either, just watched them both.  
Then he went away and turned out the lights as he did.


	40. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki pouts in excess. Jane has emotional instability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just sort of ran with Jane's dad being dead; a few offhand comments from Selvig seem to confirm this, what with him being in charge of the two and all, as well. So, yeah.  
> As for Loki; even when, by MCU standards, he is BEHAVING, he's a clingy brat. Let's be honest; whether or not he's the world destroying psychopath the Avengers turned him into, he's still completely clingy. Thor is HIS, Thor may have friends but god forbid they want a glimpse of rockin' god-bod, because aw hell no. To be fair, Loki's mistrustful by nature, and worried. Part of this ties into his fears that the whole 'incest with hated enemy race' thing will be too much for Thor; part of it is simply he doesn't like sharing. What's his is his, because a mere mortal could never understand Thor.  
> Aaah, dysfunctional Norse incest. Nothing quite like it.  
> To be fair, part of it is Thor is a big, sweet fool. He doesn't realize Loki went into the relationship expecting love bordering on open worship of his new lover. He wanted radical changes in his relationship with Thor that I am pretty sure Thor didn't anticipate or expect; to him, having Loki back was enough. Loki's a bit more greedy.

Jane sighed and bit into her sandwich, looking around the table.

"So, where's Thor?" She asked. "He's usually the first one down here tearing into everything."

"More likely than not, he is with his brother," Sif replied with a sigh. "I think you should speak to them both, if this is about the Bifrost."

"It is," Jane agreed. "They could both be useful, yes. I'll wait until after lunch, though; if they're not down here eating, something's up."

"Agreed," Sif said, stretching out and arching her back as Jane huffed and tried prudently to look away. "But you need to eat as well, my lady."

"And so do you!" Jane protested, gesturing to Sif's still-full plate. "I'm eating my sandwich, don't look at me like that!"

Sif chuckled, putting her hands up in surrender and taking a few bites, watching as Jane grumbled and took another bite of her food. Darcy laid her head on her shoulder as she ate; Jane smiled and stroked her hair.

"Is that fool running you ragged, James?" Natasha asked, looking over at Bucky as he devoured his lunch. "I'll murder him if you like."

"Don't do that, Steve needs him," Bucky said, taking a bottle of soda from the middle of the table and twisting the cap off, drinking half of it in one go before gesturing at Natasha with the neck. "It's all science, Natalia, and I can handle loss of blood. I just need to eat. Tony's doing his best to be careful, surprisingly enough."

"He likes you," Natasha said. "That is dangerous. Tony is trouble, James; as much as I love him, I acknowledge chaos flows freely in his wake, like pestilence from fetid rivers."

"Poetic," Clint said with a grin. "What she means is, don't let him drag you into some harebrained scheme, okay?"

"Okay," Bucky agreed. "Don't worry, he's behaving. I'm not particularly worried." 

"That lasts for about a day," Natasha told him. "He behaved for me as well, when I worked at Stark Industries. About a day passed before he told me he had designed body armor he wanted to try flying around Malibu in. I asked him if he had told Pepper, and all the color drained from his face." Natasha smiled and lifted a glass to her lips. "He behaved after that."

"I see," Bucky said, trying not to crack a smile. "Well, the threat of Pepper probably won't work, seeing that she's all the way in New York right now."

"I wouldn't say that," Natasha replied. "Just..."

She sighed and leaned over the table, kissing his forehead.

"I will not abandon you," she murmured in his ear, soft Russian whispers that made him tense. "You need not seek him out."

She sat down again and watched him, as blank as if nothing had transpired. Bucky shook his head.

"It's not about you, Natalia," he told her, murmuring back in Russian. "It's about Steve. Tony's all I have left of Steve. And all I should know about what he became while I was gone."

Natasha's eyes went black, but she had no protest for that. Bucky just sighed and took another bite of his food; if his blood was needed again, he'd rather be prepared for it.

...

Jane went upstairs after lunch, heading for the dormitory section and stopping in front of Thor and Loki's door. She paused before knocking, a little worried about what she would find behind the innocuous wood.

Loki opened the door shirtless, but his pants were on and he looked relatively unruffled, so Jane assumed she was safe.

"Oh, it's _you_ ," Loki said, and though it wasn't quite solid, but the air of dislike reeked around his every word. "The woman _my Thor_ was with."

"Girlfriend," she said, "I have a _girlfriend_ and I'm _also_  kind of a lesbian, so if we could maybe not start this pissing contest over your brother that you've already _won_ , I could _maybe_ have an intellectual conversation that doesn't start and end with dick?"

Loki paused, quiet. Thor snorted with amusement, coming to stand behind his brother, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck.

"She is as fiery as I warned you," Thor said. "It was not for her beauty, though she may have it, that I found her worthy, fair Loki. Hush; no one is taking you from me again."

Jane watched Loki relax by degrees, like slowly-melting ice; the god still looked at her with a bit of jealousy, but it was brushed aside as Jane told Thor, "I need to talk to you about the Bifrost."

"Indeed," Thor said with a stormy frown. "My father is eager to bring us reinforcements and end this quickly, but it is a matter of transport. One of us may come through at a time, but a whole regiment must be sent at once—more than that, even, as the war comes to a head. What would you have us do, Jane?"

"I need you and Loki to look over this machine again with me; if I widen its transportation field, I might be able to handle sending more people to and from Asgard. If I can perhaps hook it up to something within Heimdall's transport chambers, I might even be able to repair the link between Asgard and the Nine Realms. It's just a matter of this machine...and magic." Jane sighed. "I can build the machine and make the calculations, I just need that magic to tie it all together."

"And there is no shame in that," Thor promised her, his voice tender. "Anthony himself was aided by a great man named Yinsen when he built his reactor. We do nothing alone, Jane. That is not how anyone works, god or man."

Jane smiled, her spirits soothed as Thor stroked her hair affectionately; she couldn't help but notice his utter obliviousness to Loki bristling, but she would let the two of them work it out on their own.

"So...tomorrow, then? We can start work while they handle the serum chamber, if that's all right with you," Jane suggested. Thor nodded.

"Yes, of course; tomorrow, then!" He frowned. "I believe we missed lunch. Perhaps—"

"I'm not hungry," Loki said, his voice covering the entire room in a thin layer of frost—quite literally, in fact, as Jane noticed the bedsheets.

"You still need to eat," Thor said firmly. "We will—"

 _"No,"_ Loki snarled, his eyes flashing bright, wet red. Jane held her hands up, and for reasons she had yet to fathom, (perhaps a lack of self-preservation—she'd been around Sif too long), she stepped between them.

"I'll have someone bring food up," she said. "You two eat up here, it's fine. Be down for dinner though, okay?"

"Very well, Jane," Thor said, eyeing Loki carefully. "We will see you then."

As Jane slipped out the door and headed to speak with Tony about the machine plans, she sincerely doubted it.

...

Thor just went and opened the window, shaking the ice off the sheets. He didn't say a word.

"Let me do it, fool," Loki said with a heavy sigh. His eyes returned to their normal greenish-turquoise, and the room returned to its original state in kind. 

"You are so quick to take care of the girl and the bedsheets, but not of me," he said as Thor turned back to him.

Thor looked horrified, not shocked or defensive; Loki couldn't help but love him for that even as they braced for an argument.

"Loki, I—forgive me, I did not think—"

"No," Loki said, a tired little smile on his face, "you didn't. You...you were _you_ , Thor. You barreled right into this without thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Thor demanded. "It is you I love, you I've _always_ loved. You are my _soulmate_ , Loki, in both the wordly and otherworldly sense. What is there to think about?"

His words soothed him, but not enough; Loki knew putting this discussion off would only cause problems further down the line. He sighed. 

"I am not your brother any longer," he said. "I'm your _lover_ , Thor, by my choice; I'm happier that way, I assure you. But you must understand, it means things must _change._ I am no longer content with just going back to how it was before, except with physical intimacy on the side! I want...I want..."

"What is it that you want, my Loki?" Thor asked, cupping his chin and tilting his head up. "Please; a single word and I will grant it all to you. All I wish is to fix this."

"I want..." Loki inhaled and looked away, his shoulders slumping. For a second, the king of lies doubted himself. He needed the truth now more than ever, and it was almost out of his grasp...

"I want to be your _lover_ ," he murmured. "I want you to _treat me_ like one. I want to _matter_ to you, more than anyone else in the world. I want to be important and different and special to you, Thor! I want to be _yours!_ "

Thor just watched him, allowing Loki to continue venting.

"All I wanted out of this was to _matter_ to you, to _finally_ be important in your life, not some hanger-on younger brother! I wanted to be needed and loved and important, and—and I don't...I don't want to be your brother. I want to matter more than that. I want this to be _different_. Please, Thor. I want to be your lover. Treat me like one?" Loki murmured. 

Thor ran a thumb, rough and calloused, over Loki's cheek. He didn't speak for a moment, soothing his lover with soft touches.

"How?" Thor asked. "How would you have me do such a thing? I am more than willing, my love, but you must give me the way."

"I—I want," Loki looked away. Thor was patient as he sat and waited. He knew his brother. In time, Loki would find the right words.

"I want...I want to be held and caressed in public. I want you to kiss me. I want you to hold my hand and kiss it and be proper for once in your life, and...and take care of me. I want to be treated as your lover, Thor. Pampered and tended to and watched over. I've waited thousands of years for that; allow me that much indulgence," Loki finished.

Thor beckoned him into his lap; Loki sat in it and curled up with little hesitation. To him, there was no shame in the selfishness of what he asked; his shyness was simply from vulnerability.

"It is a dark time, my love," Thor murmured. "I will give you all that I possibly can of what you ask, but please remember this; we are at war, love. When all is said and done and I have proved myself a worthy victor, there will be peace. Then, I shall drape you in furs and silks and claim you as my consort before all Asgard. You will be my queen, my lover, my wife, and I will spoil you senseless, as I have been waiting so long to do. But...for now, might I simply hold you? Is my embrace enough?"

Loki snuggled into his chest and loosely entwined his hand with Thor's own.

"Always," Loki said. "As long as it is meant in love. I just want to matter. And as long as I matter to you, I will stand beside you faithfully and give you all I have to give. This I swear."

"And you always have," Thor replied with a smile. "Now, you simply matter to me differently. But I find I like it much better—along with the gifts your new fidelity gifts me."

He kissed Loki's forehead. "Forgive me for not displaying that properly."

"I forgive you, oaf," Loki said, squeezing his hand, "But only if you start displaying it properly, and soon."

Thor beamed and laid him down on the bed, kissing him with slow, sloppy caresses of his tongue as his warm, huge hands held Loki's hips down on the bed.

He was still learning, Loki mused through a haze of pleasure, but his display was more than adequate. Loki could teach him how to spruce it up later.

He smiled as Thor's hands wandered, content.

...

The others came down to the labs to find Tony keying in lines of code as he regarded the serum synthesizer, loading vials of blood into it.

"We can start production tomorrow," he said. "Should take about two weeks. Can we get the Vita-Ray chamber built in that time?"

"With the 'bots and the plans, yes," Bruce replied, "and your help, of course. I've studied the serum before; I can continue the synthesizing plans instead of you, okay?"

"Okay," Tony agreed, "but I'll need to manage the machines while you do."

"Of course, Tony! That's how team effort works," Bruce said with a small smile. "Do you want to start working on the chamber now? The serum synthesizer probably won't even be ready until tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure; Jane, if you wanna go back to work on the transportalizer or whatever it is, gimme the blueprints; I'll take a look at them and make a few adjustments that might help while you work, okay?" Tony said. Jane nodded an agreement as she tossed Tony a roll of blueprints; as he turned back to the Vita-Ray machine, he was all business, orchestrating the others in the building process as he made adjustments to the transporter.

Jane got a new set of blueprints dropped in her lap an hour later; when she looked at the amount of adjustments that had been made, she raised an eyebrow.

"That was fast," she said. "Especially for this amount of adjustments."

"We've got a lot of work to do," Tony said firmly. "Your base was good—beautiful, in fact. I'm impressed, considering you're an astrophysicist, not an engineer."

"Dad believed in building your own equipment," Jane said with a tiny smile. "Thanks, Tony."

"No problem, it's the truth; you're intending for this thing's power source to be magic, I see," Tony said. "Mjolnir?"

"Yes; we lack a gate from here to the Bifrost, so I'll need Loki's magic as well. Hopefully, between the two of them, we can repair the Bifrost and allow multiple people through the gates," Jane explained. "Odin has reinforcements ready, we just need to get them here."

"Can you get this adjusted and built in two weeks?" Tony asked. Jane nodded.

"Yes, especially since I don't need to worry about a power source," she said. "What about you? You're working on two projects; I know you're a genius, but don't...don't overwork yourself _that_ hard, okay?"

"I'll be fine," Tony promised, and she knew when his eyes flickered away that he was lying. "Just keep working, Jane. We'll break for dinner in three hours; after that, I think we'll have done all we can without the synthesizers ready to go, so we can rest. How's the internet coming along?"

"Darcy's pretty much done; she hooked it up to one of your suits and it was basically good to go. If we need internet, we have it," Jane said. "What did you want it for?"

"Possibly hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.; hell, if she can freeze up their systems when the big fight comes, that'd be even more appreciated. I'm teaching her, and she's a quick learner," Tony replied. "You're much the same, I assume."

Jane nodded, and Tony patted her shoulder before the two threw themselves back into work. It was another two and a half hours before either of them looked up again; Jane sighed and put her wrench down as Tony came over to examine the machine.

"You work fast," Tony said. "This came out very well; you're the model of efficiency, I see."

"Yes, I should hope so," Jane agreed with a small smile. "Dad always said..."

"You use past tense," Tony said, and Jane knew just what he meant. She sighed.

"He died when I was nineteen," she said. "He saw me get to college, but not grad school. And he never met Darcy."

"I see," Tony replied. "It's okay, really. My dad died young, too, but he was happier that way, I think. I doubt yours was."

"No, he wasn't," Jane said with a defeated sigh. "Erik's taken care of me ever since. He and my father were close friends; I've known him as long as I can remember."

"Where was your mother in all this?" Tony asked, giving her a curious look. "You can stop at any time, by the way, if I'm getting too invasive."

"No, no—it's nice, really. I haven't really told anyone except Darcy..." Jane sighed. Tony patted her shoulder.

"Hey, maybe you should tell Sif instead," he said. "You know she'd like to listen. Not that I wouldn't, but I'm not the one you're trying to screw, so..."

Jane actually smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, you're not my type; too flat-chested," she teased. Tony laughed.

"Yeah, all right, kiddo. I'm _everyone's_ type," he said. "Filthy rich."

Jane actually giggled, warm and amused; she was so focused on Tony's banter that she didn't notice Sif had come downstairs, eager to drag all the scientists up for dinner. 

"But...y'know, mom...I think she was part of the reason dad got sick and died so fast. She died really young; like, a year or two after she had me. Dad never said why, but I asked Erik when I was older, and he said it was suicide. I think that's why dad never told me; he didn't want me to blame myself for being born," Jane explained. "No one really knew what post-partum depression was at the time, so...I guess she just couldn't take it anymore."

"Jesus," Tony said. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I don't...know what to say to that."

"Don't worry, neither do I," Jane replied. "Dad basically just...sort of gave up after that. He died of exhaustion, basically; worked himself to death in his studies without mom to watch over him. He taught me how to be serious about my work...and when to just let go, I guess, though he didn't mean to."

Tony just looked at her for a long, slow minute. Sif was dead silent, still as fallen snow. 

"You should be proud," he said. "Not many people can survive that, let alone get their Ph.D and a girlfriend in the bargain."

"Yeah, I guess," Jane shrugged, looking away. "Thanks, Tony. Sorry I sort of vented."

"Don't be," Tony told her. "I'm glad I got to listen, kid."

The grin of sheer relief she gave him in return made the constant, dull ache of his current life settle, just a little.

"As am I."

Jane jumped, startled, before turning around and realizing Sif was standing in the doorway. The look in the goddess' eyes was unreadable; Jane looked away, her shoulders slumping.

"Come," she said, "up to dinner with all of you. There is no sense in overworking yourself. Nor carrying such burdens on your own."

That relieved Jane a little, but her stomach was still a knot of anxiety when they headed upstairs and sat down, chattering among themselves.


	41. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings of the lesbian variety. Also, something wicked this way comes for Phil Coulson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knowledge time! A kaiken is a short sword samurai wives would take with them when they moved in with their husbands.  
> That will make sense later.  
> Also, I sort of took Jane and Darcy and built on the little we know; Jane's not exactly the 616-Jane, my apologies. Hope it's not too unpleasant for anyone.

Across the Atlantic Ocean, the sentiment was shared. As his team had dinner, Phil was at work, and incredibly tense about the whole ordeal. He knew something was wrong...but he didn't know _what_ , or _why._

He'd been exceedingly careful not to betray anything about his lovers' return. He had tampered down his smiles, his cries of joy, the ecstatic glee he felt at his lovers being returned to him after all this time, safe and sound and gloriously alive. He had remained who he always was; an efficient soldier, bordering on robotic. 

And yet. 

Something was wrong, and he didn't know quite what; he had noticed the Commander tailing him more often than usual, overseeing his training or instruction sessions, or his minor, occasional missions. The Director himself had been keeping an eye on him as well; Phil had never been more grateful for both Pepper's self-control and the fact that they had sent the 'bots to go live with Tony when he came home one day to find the two of them in their house, speaking with her about work.

They left when he arrived, and Pepper flung a plate at the door once they shut it; the crashing finality of broken ceramic made Phil wince and embrace her, hugging her tight as she buried her face into his chest.

"God, I hate them," she rasped. "They wanted to know about Asgard. If we'd been in contact with any gods, I mean. I told them no, but _why does it matter?_ "

"I don't know," Phil replied. "But be careful. I'm hoping something good will happen soon, but nothing yet."

Pepper nodded, squeezing his hand. 

"You'll be okay," she promised. "Because it's _you_ they're after, you know. They couldn't care less about me."

"And _that_ will be their undoing," Phil said with a smile, whispering in her ear. "You know I'll be safe. I've got you."

Pepper was heartened by his words, but her heart seized up with worry regardless. Whatever they wanted out of Coulson, it wasn't something she understood—and thus, despite his protestations to the contrary, something she couldn't protect him from.

She hugged him tight and wished for her family to come back to her with all her heart.

...

Back in Siberia, Tony was looking at Darcy's laptop after dinner, considering. 

"Do you know where Jane is?" He asked first, curious. Darcy nodded.

"Yeah; Sif said she wanted to put her through some paces and dragged her down to the training room. She said she'd bring me there tomorrow," she said. "Why, is she okay?"

"I think so," Tony said, "but...Sif overheard her explaining what her past was like. I think she's worried."

Darcy's shoulders immediately slumped, and she frowned in defeat, shaking her head.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh, no. Yeah, Sif's probably just fussing her face off, let her. I know Jane will be okay. She's so strong."

"If you say so, kiddo; I trust you," Tony said. "Now, my next question is—you're getting internet?"

 _"Indeed, sir,_ " JARVIS replied through the speakers. _"It is double-encrypted; first, through my systems, and second, through your armor_."

"Good, good," Tony said, satisfied. "I need to send an email."

"Don't make it more dramatic than it has to be," Darcy huffed, rolling her eyes. Tony snorted.

"Kid, I fly around in a red and gold suit of armor; I make _anything_ more dramatic than it has to be."

Darcy couldn't argue with that, so she just slumped on the couch next to him as Tony opened up his email account and began keying in a message.

...

Tony actually sent two emails; one was an update to Rhodey, letting him know he was all right. The second was one to Pepper and Phil, explaining the current situation. That, he called Clint, Natasha, and Bruce in to take a look at.

"You can add whatever you want," he said. "I won't look, I promise."

They all nodded, taking turns with the laptop; Bruce went first, typing quickly and blushing just a bit as he handed it to Clint. Clint typed in something slow and sure, his fingers steady on the keyboard as he composed. Natasha was quick, her eyes narrowed and her face creased in a frown. Tony didn't ask; he knew she was considering something he couldn't even begin to understand and left it at that.

He sent the email through JARVIS with a sigh of satisfaction as Darcy took back her laptop, triumphant.

"So, movie time!" She said. "Get the others in here, 'cept for Sif and Jane 'cause they're off having girl talk or whatever. Anyone up for Taratino night?"

 _"Kill Bill_ sounds appropriate, given our current situation," Natasha agreed. Darcy nodded.

"Cool, cool. Hey, can I have a katana?" She asked, looking up at Tony like a hopeful kid at the mall during the holidays.

"Absolutely not," Tony said. "You're short, you want a _kaiken_."

"A what?" Darcy asked, giving him a baffled look. 

"Smaller, good for close range; sort of like your taser," Tony said with a grin. "It looks cool, I promise."

"Rad," Darcy said, grinning in reply. "Hey, if Sif teaches me how to handle one, can I have one for my birthday?"

"Sure," Tony said. "When's that?"

"Whenever Sif teaches me how to handle a sword," Darcy said, satisfied. Tony snorted, ruffling her hair.

"Okay, okay. Soon, then," he promised as the others went in search of everyone for movie night.

...

Jane knew Sif hadn't called her down to the training room for simple sparring exercises, but the goddess could've fooled her. For the first twenty minutes, Sif didn't even speak, except to explain a stance or blow, or correct her mid-fight. Jane knew, as the minutes progressed, that she was getting sloppy; frustration and anger guided her blows, confusion making them weak and hurt making _her_ weak. She kept going regardless; punch here, kick there, duck, use your lower body strength, fight, fight, fight...

Sif grabbed her after about forty-five minutes worth of work and was able to flip her effortlessly onto the floor. Jane, in her haze of pain and frustration, didn't see the concern on the goddess' face when she leaned over to observe her; she flung herself against her grip with all her strength and shoved the goddess away with indiscriminate blows. Her voice was a ragged, harsh rasp, doing far more to harm Sif than her physical wounds could.

 _"What,_ " she snarled, "the— _fuck_ —do—you— _want_ —from— _me!"_

In response, Sif opened her arms and let Jane fall against her chest. Soft, warm comfort overwhelmed her, and as Sif knelt to sit on the floor, she pulled Jane into a hug and let her sob.

They remained like that for a good five minutes; Jane didn't speak, and Sif didn't push her. She remained where she was, even when the tears dried, clinging to Sif tight and refusing to meet her gaze. Sif shook her head.

"No, little one," she said, "you need not hide from me. There is no shame in loss, nor grieving it. I find you no less worthy now than I did before. Look at me, please."

Jane's glance flickered back up to hers for a minute before nodding.

"Sorry," she apologized, mumbling into her chest. Sif stroked her hair, running a hand through it with gentle, deft fingers.

"Do not apologize," she soothed her. "You have no need of that. I would never ask you to do such a thing for weeping. After what I have heard, it is the only thing you could do, Jane."

"It was," she murmured. "It really, really was, I mean—sorry, can I—"

"Talk all you like," Sif said. "I did not come down here to spar, I assure you."

Jane nodded, curling up against her.

"I told Darcy all this, it just...took awhile, because I mean...I try not to feel helpless. Ever. It's an awful feeling, one of the worst in the world, because everyone tells you that you can fix things if you try hard enough, but...not when they're like this. Not when it's your dad, and not when you're helpless," Jane said, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I...I wasn't mom, you know? I wasn't able to tell him to stop working, or eat, or sleep, or...y'know, take care of me. He didn't have mom around anymore, and he didn't think I was enough. I get it, I do...I think, as much as he tried not to, part of him blamed me, and so he loved me less, but...at least he never told me it was my fault. He just...made it his fault instead, maybe. And that's why he died."

"And it has shaped you," Sif said, "in ways I don't think you yourself recognize, sometimes."

"Well, I mean—it wasn't all bad, you know? We had almost twenty years together. I like to think some part of him held on long enough to make sure I'd be okay. And, y'know...he taught me how to work hard, he gave me a career path, he told me stories, and he...he was my dad, as much as he could be. But he was a scientist, first and foremost, and I get it, I do...but if he hadn't been, I think I could've had my dad for a little longer, maybe."

"There is no sense in dwelling," Sif said, her voice solemn, "but I understand why you dream. It hurts, Jane. I am so sorry."

She sighed, thinking as she continued to stroke Jane's hair; without quite noticing, she had braided it, little strands weaving between her thoughtful fingers.

"When Thor met you—when _I_ met you—you were a brave, powerful woman, but...so very closed-off. Thor told me that, though I did not see it for myself, I admit. He told me plenty of you; your bravery, your determination, your drive...and I could respect it. I do. But once I met you, I knew this; it had its double-edge, as most things do," Sif sighed and shook her head. "You are brilliant, Jane, and so determined, but it is so single-minded that you shut everything else out. You love people but you cannot get as close to them as you would like; you are too frightened that you will lose sight of your work, and to you, this is a death sentence, for it is all you find worthy in yourself. And that, Jane, is not what your father wanted to teach you—but he did, and you need to realize that, perhaps, you were taught wrongly."

Jane was quiet for a minute; Sif feared she had said the wrong thing, anxiety she refused to acknowledge brewing in her stomach as Jane remained silent, minutes ticking by.

"What about _you_ , then?" She said. "What else do you find worthy in yourself but how you hold a sword, how you fight?"

Sif didn't take it personally; Jane was angry, and she understood. Besides, she had a point. Sif sighed.

"Truthfully, I do not know. I do not have a lover, I do not have a husband, nor a wife, nor children, and my friends are my warriors, my king. I am a goddess of war; I was born to fight and born to do what I do, to make myself worthy with the title I was given. It's...different. It is not something I can choose. And I do not have as many options as you. You have Erik, the good doctor; you have Darcy, and you have a chance to make yourself happy in a way I do not," Sif replied.

Jane looked at her, still angry—but there was a sad, quiet understanding creeping in around the jagged edges of anger in her eyes.

"Yeah," she finally said. "Yeah, I get it. I could choose a lot of other things, I guess. But I'd never feel as fulfilled, even if I have to make sacrifices. You get that, right?"

"Yes," Sif said with a heavy sigh, "oh, yes Jane, I certainly do."

"It hurts," Jane whispered. "I want to do better. I love her. I want to take care of her."

"She does not need to be taken care of," Sif said gently. "You do. And once you take care of yourself, you can love her."

"But I do love her!" Jane protested. "I mean, I really do, I'm not—"

"I know, Jane," Sif said. "But right now, your love for your work and your love for Darcy are like opposing tides; there is a constant push-pull fight between them. You need to find a way out of that. You need balance. I know this may not be the best place to find it...but you will be happier for it."

Jane nodded, thoughtful.

"So...what about you, then?" Jane asked. "Where do you fit in with all this?"

Sif looked worn down in a way Jane had never seen her look; her shoulders slumped, her eyes went dark, and her internal glow seemed to have been sapped from her very skin as she sighed.

"I do not know," she said, "nor, really, does it matter."

"Yeah, it does," Jane said firmly, sitting up and twisting herself in such a way that she straddled the goddess, her hands on her shoulders. "Because you have more options than you think you do. I don't...want you to forget that. Or what you did for me today."

She leaned in and brushed a kiss against the goddess' forehead, before standing up and heading for the door on unsteady legs that Sif hoped were shaking from things unrelated to their sparring. 

"Thank you," she said before leaving. Sif noticed with a warm heart that she left the door open.

Standing up and sighing, in an odd, lovingly exasperated way that melted across her tongue and seeped through her skin like molten gold, Sif murmured, "Jane Foster..." and left with a shake of her head, her own legs unsteady as well.

...

Darcy looked up to see Jane standing over her, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed but glimmering with something brighter and better than tears, one hand going to play with her hair.

"Hey, Darce," she said, her voice warm with affection. "How'd movie night go?"

"Way cool," Darcy replied, stretching out on the couch. "Thor really liked the movie; I should get him to watch _Reservoir Dogs_ , see what he thinks. We might have another Tarantino fan on our hands yet."

"Lovely," Jane agreed with a smile. "Are you ready for bed?"

Darcy looked up at her, tilting her head and quirking an eyebrow. 

"Uh, are you?" She asked. "I mean, you don't normally ask this early, I mean, I could come up with you if you wanted—"

"I'd like that," Jane said, stroking her hair. "You don't have to, though, it's just—"

"No, no! I totally want to, let me just shut this down for the night; stay put, okay?"

"Okay, Darcy," Jane said, closing her eyes and smiling, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

Darcy nodded, keying in a few things and shutting down the computer before getting up and heaving herself off the couch, setting her laptop on the table and winding an arm around Jane's own. 

Jane led her upstairs and into their room; Darcy tilted her head, baffled.

"Hey, uh, no offense, but don't you have work to do?" She asked. Jane shook her head.

"No, not right now," she said, "it's not important."

"Man, first time I've ever heard you say that," Darcy said, awed. Jane sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Really, I am."

Darcy was quiet as Jane went to undress, getting undressed and in her pajamas herself. When her girlfriend turned back to her, a ridiculously huge _Happy Kitty_ shirt Darcy knew was hers hanging off her body, Darcy just sighed and pulled her onto the bed, hugging her tight.

"Hey, no need to be sorry," she said, kissing Jane's forehead. "Y'know, I knew what I was getting into. I don't regret it."

"I do," Jane replied. "You've never had anyone else, and I've never...never wanted anyone else. But just wanting you isn't enough. I have to be worthy of you."

"The _fuck_ you do," Darcy said, "I'm _nothing_ , let's face it, I mean you hung out with smart people all the time, you're just so smart and funny and pretty and I'm like, this weird dumb hipster chick from the shitty ass-end of North Jersey, not that that place isn't basically some shitty ass-end in and of itself, and no one took care of me and no one sent me off to college and no one ever found me worthy and that's _okay_ because I'm _not_!"

Jane hugged her tight and stroked her hair, rubbing her back as Darcy, to her utter and complete shock, began to sob.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, "sorry, sorry, I didn't think I was gonna start crying, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry..."

"Ssh, ssh, ssh...let it out, Darce. Cry for me, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here," Jane promised. "No one ever thinks they're gonna cry, baby. Don't feel bad. Come here."

Darcy nodded, and for a few minutes, clung tight to her and whimpered, sniffling and nuzzling her neck, taking comfort from the soft wave of hair she felt draped over her.

"I know no one took care of you," Jane said. "You told me about your parents, and I'm sorry. I know it hurts to be forgotten, Darcy."

"It was like being a ghost, y'know? Like, I just...never left my room. I don't think they ever heard me, either. If I'd been able to walk through walls, though, that would've...been pretty neat, huh?" She offered. Jane kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, it would be. But I think getting out of that place and getting to college was much neater," she said. "I'm so glad, Darcy. And so proud."

"Thanks," she mumbled. "Wasn't hard. There was nothing keeping me."

"But nothing encouraging you, either, and that's even harder," Jane said. "Darcy, I'm sorry, I am; you're not stupid, don't ever say that, and..." She sighed and hugged her tight, trailing off.

"If you don't think I've never found you worthy, I'm sorry. That's my fault. Because you _are_ , okay? You matter more than my work. You are _worthy,_ Darce; so important and special. I mean, c'mon; don't you play poker with gods?"

 _"Street Fighter_ , too," Darcy said with a watery smile. "I kicked their asses."

"I bet you did," Jane said, kissing the top of her head. "Don't ever say you're not worth it, okay? You're worth more than I can give you, but I shouldn't use that as an excuse; I'll give you more, okay? All I can give."

"Okay," Darcy said. "Promise you'll get it all back. I mean, that's what love is, right? You get what you give."

"Mhm," Jane murmured. "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. Hell, you're more than okay. You're mine, all right? You're gonna be better than fine."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed. "Was...was it worth it?"

Jane considered the project she had waiting downstairs for her, all the work that would have to go into it, and all the work she had done before—all the things that had worked to build up a wall between her and what mattered. 

"More than worth it," she said. "It usually is when it comes to you."

Darcy beamed, hugging her tight and letting Jane stroke her hair and rub her back until finally, with a soft, soothing sigh, she fell asleep against her.

Jane stroked her hair one last time before closing her eyes. An odd satisfaction had filled her heart; she felt settled in a way she couldn't explain, like some internal gauge had righted itself. 

She kissed Darcy's forehead and hugged her tight, protective and comforting. She would work this out. And as she did...she would do what she could for Sif, too. It was worth it.


	42. Serum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony plans. Bucky shares. Lesbian tension everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, chorus concert killed updates, and I'm very sorry; hope you enjoy this!  
> Tony/Bucky BrOTP is the brOTP of my soul aside from Tony/Bruce and Tony/Phil and i have a lot of broships for Tony actually haha. enjoy anyway :3  
> Oh also, trigger for discussion of abuse in one of Tony and Bucky's convos! Avoid the discussion about Steve's mom.

That night, while the others went through their emotional turmoil, Tony yawned and stretched out in bed, wriggling his toes against the sheets and snuffling into the pillow with a content grin on his face. Not bad for a military bunker, though he missed home—and home's double-plus-king-sized bed and silk sheets, regardless.

He heard a knock on his door and tilted his head, curious. 

"Come in," he called, "what's up?"

Bucky came in and Tony winced. Aw, hell. He had been serious, it seemed...

"Look, Bucky," Tony began, "first, we don't really have a television, and second, uh, I am _not_ going to explain to my boyfriend how I corrupted his best friend with gay porn."

Bucky blushed, and Tony hated himself for immediately thinking how oddly adorable it was.

"Er, no, that wasn't...wasn't really my point," Bucky said. "I'm sorry, I should really go, I just—"

"No, no, relax," Tony said, reaching out and beckoning to him. "Hey, chill out and stay. Is something wrong?"

He shouldn't be pouring his heart out to this man he barely knew. But he had Howard's face and Peggy's eyes, and Steve had loved him. That was enough to make Bucky trust him, just enough to stay where he was.

"I protected Natasha," Bucky began, "when she was a little girl working for the KGB, I mean. My little Tchaikovsky Terror, a little brat who could kill a full grown man with a single finger. All that, and she was still so young, so vulnerable...so innocent. I watched over her. I loved her. She was like a daughter, a sister. And...and that's it. Honest. I need you to know that before I explain anything else."

"Yeah, no, I get it," Tony agreed. "Keep going, Buck."

"Okay, okay. I just...y'know, I wasn't there when S.H.I.E.L.D. took her. I was on another mission. I came back with my Natalia gone...and the man who took her is her lover now," Bucky said, shaking his head. "It feels...cruel. I don't begrudge her the happiness she has won; she has had a hard life, she deserves it...but she has him, and the two of them together pine for a man I've never met, that she loves in a place in her heart I'm not allowed near." 

Tony sighed, crossing his legs as he leaned forward and regarded Bucky.

"Yeah, I get it. A lot's changed since you saw her last, and it hurts. But she still loves you! She came looking for _you,_ Bucky. That man you say she loves more than you? She _left_ _him,_ faked her death and left him, all to find _you_. Relax, really. She's good at juggling men, she'll fit you right in," Tony said, keeping his tone light. "C'mon, don't worry about that. What's the real problem, Bucky? And why did you come to me?"

"I miss Steve," Bucky blurted out. He hadn't meant to, and he could see the pain in Tony's eyes, but there was no going back. "I miss Steve, I love Steve, he's my best friend, my _brother,_ I—I _miss him_ , I miss him so _much_ , I miss Peggy, I miss Howard, I miss them so _much,_ they were my _family_ , they were all I _had_ , and I just—I just, I..."

Bucky shook his head.   
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with this. Nat said Howard...Howard lost himself after I left, but..."

Bucky trailed off, fiddling with his mechanical fingers.

"No, it's okay," Tony said. "You didn't know the Howard I did. I get it."

He paused. "I miss him, too. I miss Steve so much."

He inhaled slowly and looked up at Bucky, a tiny, hesitant smile on his face.

"Hey, if you want...you can tell me about him," Tony said. "I'll listen. And...I'd like to know what he was like, back in his day."

There was a pause as Bucky contemplated his words.

"Sure," Bucky said, his grin weary, "how 'bout you tell me what he was like once you knew him in return? I'm interested."

"Fair enough," Tony said, patting the bed. "C'mere, there's room. I've had worse-looking people in my bed, Barnes, I'll give you that."

"Thanks," Bucky said, rolling his eyes, but he was laughing as he sat crosslegged on Tony's bed. The two talked for another few hours, until they fell asleep on one another; there was still plenty to tell, of course, but Bucky's heart felt lighter for relieving his burdens, and Tony's heart glowed brighter in response.

...

The group awoke next morning to Tony already putting the serum chamber together, welding metal and threading wire and fuses together. They needed both a synthesizing chamber for the serum and a Vita-Ray intensifer; Tony had the blueprints from Howard on how to build the chamber, but Bucky's blood was needed for the serum.  
Bucky came down with a tray of breakfast, setting it in front of him with a soft clink.

"Eat," he said, his voice stern. "You can't work yourself to death. I'm not giving you any of my blood if you're going to ignore your meals."

"Oh, god," Tony said with an amused sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat, "you _are_ him, right down to the nagging."

"Thank you," Bucky said with a soft laugh. "I'm glad you think so. I've watched him fuss for years." He shook his head and smiled. "Peggy used to get on his ass, back in the day. He fussed over her, making sure she ate, that she slept, that she got the first shower and the first rations. She got so pissed at him, once, she threatened to smack him one...'til he explained why." Bucky sighed. "He tell you 'bout what happened to his mom?"

"No," Tony said, a knot of worry growing in his stomach. "...Can you tell me?"

"Dad beat her," Bucky said. "Beat her. Beat Steve. He starved them and abused them for about half of Steve's life. He watched his mother go hungry on his behalf, protect him as best as she could. Steve's always loved strong women, respected them, but...he wants to protect them, all the same. And Peggy understood."

He paused and regarded Tony, tilting his head a bit. He looked so much like Steve then that Tony's heart ached.

"Y'know, it's probably what he saw in you," Bucky said, "aside from the whole 'woman' aspect. Someone who was strong. Someone he respected. But...someone he wanted to protect. Steve's funny like that, really. Contradictions."

"...Thanks," Tony said after a few moments of silence. "Seriously. It...it's good to know." 

He ate after that; every bite Bucky had scrounged up, in fact. Bucky just smiled, pleased, and was still smiling when the others came down to help Tony with his work.

...

"Sir, you know something's going on," Maria said as she stood on the bridge with Fury, overlooking New York. "There's too many minor coincidences, too many people showing up—people who would only be involved if..."

"If this was going to become a war, Hill, I know," Fury said. "I understand, I do. That does seem to be the end result; that said, what would you have me do?"

"Initiate Phase 2, sir," Maria said. "We still have control of the Tesseract, and that is more than enough. Stark didn't design us all the weapons we needed, but what we do have is sufficient—"

"We can't say it's sufficient until we know what we're up against," Fury said. "Which means we need to hear from our agents. Their word is the Asgardians were gone by the time they arrived." Fury sighed. "Until we know where they went to, we're at a loss. And we need to start searching soon, I know. Question is, where."

"They wouldn't go to Steve's haunts, or Tony's. They've already stayed in Puente Antiguo. That leaves us with two options, if we consider the likelihood they will stick to the places their possible human allies, former or otherwise, might know. That means we have two options; India and Russia. More specifically, Calcutta...and wherever the Widow lived during her tenure as a KGB agent." Maria said.

"We'll search there, then. If we don't turn anything up?" Fury asked.

"Coulson has managed to ingratiate himself with the Asgardians," Maria replied. "They find him worthy. Worthy enough to come rescue, should it come to that."

Fury looked at her for a long, long time.

"You'll make a good Director," he finally replied. "Don't let him slip out of our fingers, then, Hill. He's needed. More than he ever was as a good man."

"Very well, sir," Maria said, bowing her head as she turned and left the bridge.

Victoria noticed something had died in Maria's eyes when her lover returned to her that night. She was the only one that ever did.

...

Darcy had one huge talent when it came to technology, to everyone's surprise, and it was hacking. When Tony asked her why as she synced JARVIS up to her laptop, she replied, "Starving college student. Wi-Fi necessary."

Tony liked what necessity brought to the table. 

Darcy worked on it in the enormous training room, which looked like a modified hangar, to be completely honest; she could have worked on it in the lab, but, as she willingly admitted, she liked watching the warriors work. It was strange to see people who could move like that in this day and age; without their armor on, traded for warmer clothes due to how cold it continued to be despite the warming spells, it painted an even odder picture.

Clint and Natasha appreciated the workout, though. Bucky would have as well, were they not picking his brain clean down in the labs, eager for more information on the serum. The Asgardians fought hard in a style they were unused to; it meant bumps and bruises, more than they were accustomed to at this point in their training, but it was exhilirating in its own way.

In their hearts, they wished for Coulson to return; they wanted their lover back, his shy, sweet grin only they ever saw, his careful hands and watchful eyes that saw their injuries before they could and patched them up so gently, with so much love and concern. He would have had an aneurysm, could he have been witness to the bruises that bloomed dark and wet across their arms.

Occasionally, Darcy spoke up for them, though. She was human; she understood their limits better than the Asgardians could; or they themselves, for that matter. 

"Yo, Sif, chill out, you're gonna break Nat's arm if you keep that up," Darcy said, not even looking up from her laptop as she continued to key in code. "Fandral, drop Clint, you're gonna tear a muscle or something."

Natasha and Clint regarded the ease with which Darcy commanded the Asgardians with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. Still, she looked out for them while they trained; that mattered, and it relaxed them somewhat. 

That said, Darcy was focused today, tapping away and grimacing with frustration every so often.

 _"We are close, madam; it is a matter of establishing a more secure point to route the internet from. Your laptop is something that can be easily hacked. If, perhaps, we can route it through what remains in the lab, a connection can be established,"_ JARVIS said. Darcy nodded.

"Right, right; that settles it, then. Chill the fuck out, remember these are squishy humans you're fighting, no matter how badass, and if any of you come to me with a broken arm or leg or whatever, I won't be happy!" Darcy said, lugging her laptop down to the lab and giving them all a stern look.

Clint laughed before he could stop himself; the utterly chastized look on Sif's face didn't help.

"I don't understand why she's so eager to set this up," Natasha said. "Surely she doesn't intend to use it for much?"

"I do not understand this interwebbed thing any more than you, Natasha," Sif said with a sigh. "To be truthful, I never understand much of Darcy's motives."

"As it should be, I suppose," Natasha said with a sigh of agreement. "Come, we have better things to work on than pondering her choices, confusing they may be."

Sif nodded in agreement, but it still lurked in the back of her mind for the rest of the day.

...

Darcy yawned, stretching out and settling in within the lab; Tony had let her wire the net through the router system in the armor. It wasn't perfect, but it would do, especially considering they wouldn't need the armor until Fury decided to start something. 

"I didn't know you could do this, babe," Jane said with a small grin. "It's...pretty impressive."

"Thanks," Darcy replied, grinning in return. "Glad you think it's hot. It was really just necessity, I wanted to keep up with my tv shows and internet is expensive as hell."

"Fine, fine; still, we can use that," Tony said. "And for more important things than television shows."

"Hey, screw you, the season finales have probably already aired, and that means I've got a lot to catch up on," Darcy sighed. "Whatever, so long as Russia doesn't fuck over my television-watching experience."

She continued to work as Bucky winced, a needle in his arm. Erik was careful, and didn't take much, just a bit for testing and analysis, but he didn't like the feeling of being experimented on again. Tony seemed to notice; he hadn't strayed far from Bucky's side, like he was trying to offer subtle comfort. Darcy thought it was adorable.

"So, how long do you think we'll be here?" She asked, stretching out with a yawn. Tony shrugged.

"Once we get this setup and we get the gang back together, not long. I like this place about as much as you do, trust me. Hopefully if Odin has an army ready we can literally just storm S.H.I.E.L.D. then and there; if not, then we'll wait on them for as long as we can. We can't do this half-assed, which means waiting for superpowered godly backup is our best bet," Tony said. "I'm gonna take you through a crash course in hacking, kiddo; I wanna see what you know and what I can teach you. Might be useful when the big fight comes."

"Mmkay," Darcy agreed. "Hey, Jane, you busy?"

"Not...not in particular, no; Tony's the one who's building most of this. Why?" Jane asked. Darcy huffed.

"Clint and Natasha are dumb and think they can fight gods like it's no big deal. Can you go make sure they're not getting broken limbs or anything? Please?" She asked. Jane nodded.

"Yeah, I will; Tony, call for me if you need me," she said, leaving the room after kissing the top of Darcy's head. Tony huffed.

"You two are glurge-inducing," he said. "Like an episode of _Care Bears_ or whatever."

"I _really_ don't want to know why you know the name of an Eighties girls cartoon," Darcy said. Tony shrugged.

"Pepper was a fan," he said, and that was that. Darcy didn't inquire further, though the thought of Tony watching that badly-animated, merchandise-driven trainwreck her parents had occasionally put in front of her to keep her babysat was more amusing than it had a right to be.

She just smiled and kept working on the internet.

...

Jane went to check on Sif and stopped in the doorway, her face slowly turning pink.

The woman was in nothing more than a thin pair of shorts and a camisole, trading blows with Natasha. From the straps on her shoulders, Jane wagered that she was braless, and her entire body shone faintly with sweat as they sparred.

Jane bit her knuckle and did her best to control her breathing, giving herself a moment to calm down before she entered the training room.

She watched them spar awhile longer; their bodies meeting and their fists clashing, Sif gripping Natasha's arm, throwing her effortlessly as the other woman rebounded, twisting Sif's arm and forcing her to her knees. Jane whimpered before she could stop herself.

The goddess did not disappoint; she got up and grabbed Natasha, grasping her waist and sidesweeping her so that she fell, groaning; Jane came to her senses and called out, "Guys, enough!"

Natasha sighed with relief, letting Clint pick her up and kiss her all over.

Sif stopped, sidestepping Natasha and running up to her, a proud smile on her face; the sort of 'come look what I did, aren't I amazing?' grin that made her whole face light up. 

"It is good to see you, Jane," Sif murmured. "You have been so busy the past week. I have missed your company."

"Y-yeah, me too," Jane said with a hasty nod and a quick grin. "Darcy sent me to check up on you; I've never really seen you spar for real. You're, uh...really good."

"This? This is nothing, but thank you, my lady," Sif said. "I would be honored to show you proper combat, but there is time for that yet, and you will be safe when it happens." 

"Yeah, I, uh...I figure," Jane slumped her shoulders. "I don't know what I'll be doing, really. I mean, Darcy has hacking...so really, I'm the only useless one now, and I don't..."

"You brought Loki back to us," Sif said sternly. "As much of a frustration as he is, I am impressed, Jane; the Bifrost was destroyed by Uru magic, and yet, you have allowed us to go between the worlds."

"Yeah, but it isn't—isn't enough, I mean, and without the hammer I couldn't have—and the Bifrost is still broken, I didn't—"

"Can you change that, Jane?" Sif murmured. "I have faith you can. If anyone could forge a link between humanity and Asgard once more, it would be you. You simply need to continue working on the machine."

"Okay," Jane murmured, "okay. Okay, I will."

Sif kissed her hair. It wasn't romantic; it was just tender, a sweet gesture of confidence. Jane smiled and clung tight to her for a second before pulling away and looking at the others, her expression stern.

"C'mon, guys, it's been three hours; give yourself a break. Go relax and get some lunch, okay? I'll come with you," Jane promised. 

That got everyone going; the training room was left behind as they wandered upstairs for lunch.

...

Bucky was starting to see spots from all the blood he'd given for the day by the time Tony finally said, "Okay, enough. Guy needs to eat before we kill him. Bring me something down, all right? I want to run scans on these."

"All right, all right," Erik agreed, as Darcy helped Bucky up, leading him upstairs. "How long until you get a synthesized formula?"

"Depends on how high the concentration of it is within his blood. If it's particularly powerful I might be able to have it done in a week, if it's all I work on. Dummy, Butterfingers, and You have the blueprints encoded in their systems; with you and JARVIS and Bucky, I think you can focus on the Vita-Rays while Bruce and I deal with this," he said. "I don't know, though; gotta run the tests still."

"All right, be careful; I'll bring down food soon. See you in a bit, Tony," Erik said, heading upstairs after Darcy and Bucky. Bruce lingered, looking at Tony.

"Do you need me to—"

"Lunch, bud," Tony said, giving him a stern look. "What would Pepper say to me if she found out I'd been making you neglect meals?"

Bruce smiled at the thought of her, running his hand through his curls.

"Nothing good, I figure," he said. "You're right, I'll go. See you later..."

Tony shooed him out with a nod of agreement before finally sitting down in front of his work and sighing. 

Steve. This was all for Steve. That was what mattered, in the end; Steve back by his side, fighting alongside him and watching over him. Now he had to be the one with Steve's back during all this, and as Tony loaded up the vials of blood into the testing chamber he'd designed, it seemed like a heavy task. Regardless, he'd have to bear the weight of it alone until Steve's strength could help hold it up again. 

Tony could make that happen. For Steve's sake, he would.

He settled into work with a renewed determination, watching the screen fill up with chemicals and percentages, reading over the makeup of Bucky's blood with a careful eye.

The serum cells were present, and due to them, he could take more blood from Bucky than he could most people, but not by much, and that meant more serum cells to work with...but getting enough to synthesize the formula might not work as quickly as he had thought. Almost a month, maybe.

Tony grit his teeth and steeled himself. Steve would be safe, perfectly preserved; like the ice, he couldn't help but think, and immediately hated himself for it. Hopefully this wouldn't take seventy years, like before...

He had to be strong, he told himself. And he would work hard, above all else; he wasn't going to wait much longer, he knew that. With everyone's help, this would get done.  
S.H.I.E.L.D., though. How much longer would they wait? It was obvious they were hunting for them...the question, however, remained where they were looking. If they didn't know about the KGB hideout, they were safe.

Tony couldn't count on that lasting long, however.

He gripped the edge of the lab table and resisted the urge to slam his head against it; he knew it wouldn't help, however highly satisfying it might end up being. He had to stay calm, remain focused, and do whatever he could to continue his work.

Tony frowned, drumming his fingers on the table and sinking into thought. If he could combine the arc reactor with the serum...

No, no, no. He dismissed the thought as soon as it came. Steve would not be forced to live with the arc reactor in his chest. Not like him. Steve's halo was meant for his head, not his chest.

Tony snorted, massaging his temples as he went back to another idea. No, no arc reactor inside him...but if he hooked himself up to the machine...

He nodded, satisfied. It would cut the time in half; two weeks would give them enough time to get this all settled and done. Steve would be with him. And Tony would have saved him; he would have given him his heart to do it, in fact, which was exactly what Steve had done with him.

Tony smiled. It was only fair.


	43. Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slightly short length of this one; the next one will be extra long to make up for it! I wanted to end on a big cliffhanger, woops. :3

That night, Phil came home to find his computer whirring; he raised an eyebrow until he heard a voice issue from the speakers. 

_"Philip, you have a message; Anthony has contacted you,"_ JARVIS told him. Phil nodded, setting his briefcase down as Pepper came in after him, logging onto his computer and accessing Phil's email account, opening it up and reading the contents.

 _"Hey, Phil, Pep; I'm just checking in through JARVIS so nobody can read this. I just wanted to let you know everyone's okay; it'll take us about another two weeks to make the serum, just so you guys have a timeframe, and once Steve's back we'll head to visit straight away, and bring platoons of asskicking with us. We're okay, is what I'm saying. Message me back, lemme know if anything's up on your end?_ "

Pepper read the first part and nodded, skimming it as she considered what to tell Tony; it was only as Phil came back into the living room to ask her what she wanted for dinner that Pepper's face broke into a grin, her eyes falling on the last paragraph.

" _Oh, and I corraled the boys—and Nat—into writing a few things for you two. You can thank me later, preferably with that nice Arabic coffee you know I like, Pep."_

She beckoned Phil over to sit; he sat beside her with a certain tense eagerness to his limbs, hanging on whatever was contained in the email. Pepper's came first, and so he looked aside politely, to allow her a moment to reflect in private.

_"Um, hey Pep. Miss you lots. We're getting everything together so Steve can come back over here, and it's a lot of work, but it's worth it to get to come see you, I promise! I miss you so much, but I don't want you to miss me, okay? I'm just fine! I want you to stay focused so you can stay safe. Don't be scared; I'll be with you soon, promise. I'm not scared anymore, and I know I can be of much more use here, protecting the team...but that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you more than anything. I wish I could protect you, but I promise, it won't be much longer. Besides, we both know how strong you are; strong enough to tame the Hulk, right? Don't be scared, not for anything. I'm not. I know I have you, even when you're not here. Love you with all my heart. —Bruce."_

She stroked the screen before she could stop herself, tracing his words and mouthing his name, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. 

"I'll...I'll go order the Chinese," she said, standing up and going to the kitchen, holding her phone as her hands shook hard enough to make it rattle in her palms. Phil nodded, eagerly devouring the words that lay before him on the dully shining screen.

_"Hey, babe! We're okay here. Getting my ass kicked by gods, but it's good cardio, I guess. Thor and Loki are definitely a thing now, though Nat doesn't believe me, 'cause she's stupid, that's what. I miss you a whole lot. It's not throwing off my aim, though, so don't worry, okay? Tough as ever, Phil. I love you. See you later, okay? Be safe. Please be safe. He'll kill you, I know he will. Don't let him. I can shoot far, but not that far, and I can't protect you. I know you're strong, though. You'll do just fine on your own. Shoot straight; I love you. —Clint."_

Phil clasped a hand over his mouth and inhaled slow and shaky through his nose, feeling tears stinging at his eyes. He wanted to mouth Clint's name, but he didn't have the control; if he cried out now, it would be a scream of despair, of love and longing and loss that he couldn't possibly hope to contain. 

Instead, he steeled himself and went on to read Natasha's words to him.

_"My love, I have missed you dearly. Fear not; all is well. Clint is as stubborn and bratty as ever. You would think getting thrashed by gods on a daily basis would calm him down, but alas. He misses you dearly. As do I; more than words can say, my Coulson. I ache for you. But I do not weep; to weep is to lose my focus. If you are weeping now, don't. We are safe and all is well; knowing you are crying for us makes it so much harder not to return immediately and take you into our arms and apologize for all the wrongs we have sought to commit against you. I am sorry, Phil. In the end, this was my idea. I don't care if it was worth it. It is not being with you. And nothing is worth that separation. Please, for our sake and your own, stay safe. I love you. I will always love you. Winter will end and we will return. Please, Phil. We love you. I love you. I will always love you. I cannot say it enough. But those words will fall on the deaf ears of a tomb should we falter, any one of us. Stay safe. I'm coming for you. —Natasha."_

Coulson wiped with renewed vigor at his eyes, uncaring if he ruined his suit; he gave up and heaved a broken, agonized sob as he smiled weakly at the screen.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, quiet enough not to be heard, "I'm just not strong enough. It's worth crying over you. But...not for long, I promise. I've got a job to do."

Pepper gave him a few minutes of silence to compose himself in relative peace until she joined him on the couch. Still silent, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair, holding her quietly until the doorbell rang.

Pepper got up to get the food while Phil stared at the screen. What could he possibly reply with?

He supposed he had to start with Tony; the simplest thing possible.

_"Tony; we're all fine. It's good to know everyone's okay on your end; don't over-exert yourself to get this serum project up and running. You know Steve would be willing to wait months if he knew you would be safe until he returned. Nothing much is unusual on our end; just one minor incident. Fury's snooping around regarding Asgard; I'm pretty sure he suspects Loki's involvement at the very least. Let me know what's going on with the Asgardians on your end, okay? We'll be fine over here until then; we're being careful. You be careful too; I want you safe, Stark. You're part of my team, and I take that seriously, even if you're holed up in the middle of nowhere right now."_

Phil's fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard as Pepper returned with the food.

 _"To Clint and Natasha; I love you with all my heart,"_ he typed. _"I want you to stay safe and focused. You're all I think about; you're what drives me to keep going through all this. Natasha it's not your fault, damn it. Clint, fly true. I'm waiting for you to come back to me. But please, above all else, darlings; I forgive you. I love you. And I'm going to be just fine. —Phil."_

Pepper took the laptop from him without a word; the silent communication was enough for her to understand as she looked down at the keyboard, so unsure of what to say.

 _"I'm not scared,"_ she finally began. _"I've never been scared, not since you held me for the first time, Bruce. I know you'll always protect me, and when you can't, I'll take care of myself. My brave, beautiful, wonderful man; stay safe. I'll be careful and I'll be strong, and I'll be waiting for you here when you return. Just hold on for me, okay? Stay focused and stay sharp—and above all else, stay calm, okay? I know you'll keep everyone safe...but keep yourself safe too, Bruce. I love you so much. Love him too. You both look after everyone and take care of yourself. I'll be here doing everything I can to make sure you can come home, okay? When you do, we'll be together for as long as we both live; nothing's going to stop me from being with you, promise. Just make sure you get here safe and sound so that can happen, okay? I love you so much. —Pepper."_

She sent the email after checking over what Phil had confirmed; she added that they had come to visit the house as well, and a quick message of love and support to Tony before sending it off and settling in on the couch with a sigh. Both of them were eager for a reply, but they couldn't admit it; they just ate in silence, turned the television on, and let its random, Dadaist chaos, bursts of static and staccato celluloid rituals, speak for them while their minds churned with hope and promise.

...

Tony awoke the next morning and smiled, content; the first thing he heard was, " _You have a message, Anthony."_

Tony sat up and opened up his phone, reading the message eagerly. He read Coulson's notations with a small frown; Phil fussed too much, really. But that bit about the Asgardians worried him—he knew it was his excursion into town with Sif that had started all this. With Fury, he couldn't say it amounted to nothing; he knew full well that this, whatever it was, was probably serious, and that meant he had to get a reply back immediately.

He read Phil's message of love to him and his heart softened considerably. Then he read Pepper's.

 _"I love you. Don't you dare do whatever it is that you're doing; I know damn well nothing takes you two weeks when it's something of this caliber, and I'm a hundred percent sure it's dangerous. Steve would_ never _want you putting yourself in danger on his behalf. Don't let your desire to see him overtake what you know Steve would actually_ want _for you. He would want you safe; that's what he's always wanted. I want you safe too, Tony. Don't be an idiot. Not until I can be there to tell you off for it. I miss you so much, Tony. Please stay safe. We're coming soon, I promise. —Pepper."_

Tony swallowed and ran a hand through his hair as guilt swamped his heart. No, he wouldn't let this sway him. He had a job to do, for Steve's sake, and he wouldn't stop now.

Not when the fate of his team might rest on him getting this done as quickly as he could, either. 

"I love you too, Pepper," he whispered. "And we'll be coming home faster if we get this done, I promise."

He put his phone down and went down into the lab. He would let Bruce know Pepper had messaged him, and Clint and Natasha that Phil had sent something as well, but not yet —not until he'd done what he needed to do, and they couldn't stop him.

...

Bruce awoke with an odd, twisting feeling in his stomach. He knew what it meant; years of abuse had honed his sense of impending danger into a fine point, and he knew with almost supernatural clarity that something was about to happen.

There was one other thing that was enmeshed in that sick, tight feeling in his chest that made his mouth taste like copper, sweet and metallic; Tony. Only Tony's problems ever made him think metal, think lab, think of this kind of danger, and that meant something was going on down in that lab that would put his friend in danger, and if his only friend thought that he was going to be an idiot and put himself in harm's way, Bruce was going to very calmly and gently explain to him the error of his ways. Or punt him through a wall; whichever guy got to him first, really.

Bruce grinned with dry, dark humor at that, pulling his robe on, sliding into his slippers, and going to find Selvig and Jane.

He knocked on Jane's door, urgent and insistent; she opened it after a few seconds, bleary-eyed.

"Sorry," he apologized, "but Tony's in danger. I mean, uh, sometimes I just get—feelings, you know, weird intuition, I'm used to him, and I just—I know when he's going to do something stupid, and we need to get down to the lab."

Jane regarded him with dull, sleep-deadened eyes for a second before shaking it off and sighing.

"It says a lot that you've memorized his actions to the point of knowing when he's gonna do something stupid, but okay," she said. "The fact that I'm perfectly okay trusting your instincts and knowing you're right says a lot too, huh?" 

Bruce ducked his head and grinned shyly, running a hesitant hand through his curls and nodding.

"Er, I'm used to it—memorizing people, I mean. It keeps me safe," he said. "C'mon, we really should get Erik, too!"

"I will—you go down and get him, finding Erik will slow us down. Go check on him right now and we'll be there as backup really soon, I promise," Jane said; Bruce nodded and headed down for the labs, his slippers making dull thwacking sounds against the floors as Jane called back to Darcy, "Tony's being an idiot, I'm gonna go stop him, okay?" and went to find Selvig as fast as she could.

...

Bruce knew Tony needed to be stopped; but as he thought of it, he realized there was one more person he could enlist for help. 

He ran down to his room and banged on the door. When he opened it, groggy and blinking sleep from his eyes, Bruce just looked at him.

"Tony's in danger," he said.

Bucky Barnes was out the door and after him without a word.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is dumb. Bucky isn't. Steve is still dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Tony did a dumb thing to the surprise of no one, and this is the result. Also, Jane feels.

Tony connected the last wire into the arc reactor and smiled, satisfied. This would fix everything. Steve would be home soon, and all would be well. He would be safe. And Steve would be alive. That was all that mattered.

He hissed with pain as he moved; the wires shifting within him felt so foreign and out of place, an alien grotesque sensation that pounded inside his chest as Tony's fingers skipped over a few buttons before keying in the command sequences that would start up the serum chamber.

"Tony! Tony, _don't_ —"

Tony swore, slamming a few buttons and muttering, "Full power, JARV, I need a quick boot-up before they come in to play hero."

 _"...Of course, sir,_ " JARVIS said. There were certain commands of Anthony's he could override. This, he was afraid, was not one of them.

Tony gasped and groaned, eyelids fluttering as he gripped the edge of the machine for support, the wires suckling away at the electricity that flowed through the reactor. The machine hummed as if in ecstasy as it began to receive all the power it had collected from the reactor; Tony whimpered for breath, in agony, until he heard JARVIS telling him, " _Synthesis chamber operating at four hundred percent power, Anthony_ ," and knew it was all worth it.

 _"Don't you fucking_ dare _, Stark_!"

Tony recognized the voice and smiled, sinking into his seat and closing his eyes, looking weary and defeated as anything.

"Too late, Barnes," he rasped with a soft shake of his head. "Too late, too late..."

Bucky kicked the door down, and he and Bruce crossed the threshold immediately after, Jane and Erik hot on their heels. Bruce opened his mouth to start lecturing Tony; Bucky didn't bother, scooping him up and grabbing him by the throat, pinning him against the machines. 

"Do you _really_ think this is what Steve would _want,_ Stark?" Bucky snarled, his eyes blazing as he gestured to the machines. "What the fuck did you even _do_?"

"Can't...can't know if Steve would want me to do it or not if y'don't know what's going on, Barnes...and I sure as hell m'not telling you," Tony rasped, a wide grin on his face, triumph bleeding into pain. Bucky growled.

"I can make you tell me," he snarled, his breath hot on Tony's neck, his teeth rasping dangerously close to Tony's vulnerable, soft neck. "I know plenty of ways to make men talk, Tony. Some of them might even be pleasant, for awhile."

"Why are you so curious to know?" Tony said. "It's too late to stop me. Trust me, the only thing I _will_ tell you is that if anyone but me rips these wires out, the reactor's gonna give out and I'll die. And I'm pretty sure Steve wouldn't want _that."_

Bucky's eyes blazed with betrayal as he pulled away from Tony, shaking his head.

"I can tell you," Bruce piped up, his voice timid and quiet, but sure and free of trembling as he stood in front of Bucky, examining the reactor. "Tony's told me how the reactor works, and I've seen his blueprints for these wires."

"Don't you dare, Bruce! Don't, c'mon—Bruce, buddy, please...love you," Tony said, wanting to reach out and grab his hands—he was so close, but not enough, and Tony didn't want to yank out the wires... "Love you, I love you—c'mon, you're my friend, right? Don't tell him, you're my friend, you're my best friend, you're my _brother_...don't _, don't._.."

Bruce came close enough to brush Tony's hair away from his forehead so he could kiss it gently, sighing and shaking his head.

"Yeah," he said, "I am. And that's why I know Bucky deserves to be told the truth. Because he can help you. We all can."

Tony sputtered protests, choking on his words as Bruce turned back to the others, sighing and slumping his shoulders.

"What Tony did," Bruce said, "well, uh—it basically amounts to his life-support system functioning as a life-support system for another machine instead of himself. It's sort of like  how the suit takes power from the reactor...but this is more constant, more draining. And it requires a _lot_ more energy. He's hooked into the thing; if it's removed in any way but the way Tony assembled it, it'll rip the reactor clean out and kill him."

"...So you basically gambled on getting your stupid ass _killed_ —for _what_ , Tony?" Bucky asked, his voice sharp and harsh. Tony glared at him.

"Don't be a fucking ass, Barnes; I didn't do this because I wanted to," he said. Bucky snorted with disgust.

"Could've fooled me," he snapped. "I didn't see someone else hooking you into this machine, so I mean, I just _assumed_ —"

"Well, _don't_ , because in case you didn't realize, _I did this for you_ , you stupid son of a bitch!" Tony roared. "You and _everyone else_ I'm trying to keep _safe_!"

There was a beat of raw, festering silence, the tension within it hanging around them like a slab of rotting meat.

"And for Steve," Bucky finally said. Tony sighed.

"I thought that was a given," he muttered. _"Everything_ for Steve, Barnes. Surely you understand that."

There was still a measure of awkward silence in the room; Tony sighed and shook his head.

"Guess I should explain," he said. "See, the synthesis would've taken a month, maybe more. We didn't _have_ that month. With the arc reactor powering the synthesis chamber, I can get vitamin strands from the machine as well as speed up the serum synthesizing, as well as for the Vita-Rays and the test itself, and we can have the chamber and all the fun concoctions that go in it done in two weeks, tops."

"...But, it's not worth that," Jane said. "Remember yesterday? What we said about...my dad, and my work, and...no, Tony. Nothing's worth this. If I can learn that, you...you can..."

"Sorry, kiddo," Tony said, looking away, his shoulders hunched. "I didn't mean to fuck you over like this. I mean it."

"So did dad," Jane said, looking at him with an emotion lurking on her face Tony couldn't quite name. "That didn't change a thing."

Tony didn't reply.

"For Steve," he whispered, more like a prayer, a personal plea for aid than anything, "for Steve, for Steve. Anything and everything for Steve."

Except his safety, the others thought, but didn't voice.

"It doesn't hurt," Tony finally said after the silence. "I mean that. It's not causing me any pain, and I'm not an idiot, for fuck's sake; I created this thing, I know its limits. I can go off  it for an hour and the stored energy can operate on its own. Once I lengthen the cables a bit, I can even lay down here and get sleep while it runs. Won't take me more than a few hours to do that. And then we can get the Vita-Ray machine built and the serum can get done...and Steve can come home."

"Is this _really_ worth it?" Jane demanded. "Is it really worth all this pain, even when you know this is the _last_ thing he'd want you doing for him?"

Tony looked at her, his eyes dead and heavy with loss and cold.

"See, it's different for you," he said. "You can stop your work and go upstairs, and Darcy's gonna be there, and you can hug her and kiss her and pet her hair and all that cute gooey-couple nonsense. For you, it's worth it to stop working, because she's there for you, and ignoring her is the problem. It's...different for me."

"How? _How_ is it different? Does Steve love you any less? Would he want this any more for you if he was alive?" Jane demanded.

"It doesn't matter, because he _isn't_ ," Tony said, his voice low and flat. "He's not upstairs. He's not here, where I need him. It's not worth it to stop working, because _he's not here_ , and my work could _save him_. Steve has saved me more times than I can remember, even when it was hard, or dangerous, or painful, or inconvenient. To not do the same when he needed me...well, doing it is worth the pain," Tony said. "It's worth it. Because it's what he needs. Even if he doesn't know it. Even if he wouldn't like it. Because there have been times where he's taken care of me, and that's been exactly the case. And I didn't need him any less."

Everyone was silent.

"...I've got work to do," Jane said. "But Thor and Loki really need to show me this whole 'magic' thing, so I'll be gone."

Tony understood why she packed up and fled, and knew that as soon as she shut the door, there would be tears in her eyes. No one could stand to see their father die again in front of them, helpless to stop it—least of all someone like her. It hurt him to know how badly he'd hurt her. He liked her. He would make it up to her, somehow, once Steve was safe.

"We'll work on it," Bruce said, his voice soft. "Okay, Tony. You win. But...Steve loses, I think."

Tony just shrugged, closing his eyes as he heard Erik and Bruce get to work. He heard the sounds of them bustling about—then a chair scraping across the floor and the heavy sound of someone sitting in it.

"Barnes, you've got your own goddamn work to go. Get the hell out of my lab," Tony snapped. There wasn't as much bite to it as he would've liked.

"Fuck you," Bucky said. "It's my blood in those chambers. This my lab. And that's my brother you're dying to protect."

"And my lover," Tony said, petulant and possessive. Bucky shrugged.

"Didn't say he wasn't," Bucky said. "Not trying to one-up you. Just sayin'. If Steve can't watch over your stupid ass, I will. Because that's what you do, when your brother's not around—you make sure his memory stays alive in the way that really matter."

He fumbled in his pocket for a second before producing a pack of cigarettes, a habit from his war days; he lit one, then watched it burn, content to look at the smoke and think.

"Besides," he said. "Natasha doesn't need me anymore. You do. And I don't mind that. Not really."

Tony was quiet.

"He did the same for you, you know," he said. "He made sure you still mattered."

"Good," Bucky said, satisfied. "Then maybe he wouldn't like this. But I guess he'd understand."

"I hope so," Tony said, his voice a drawn, quiet rasp.

Bucky didn't say anything. He just watched his cigarette burn. He had a watch to maintain, and as long as Tony sat here, trembling in pain he refused to voice, he would keep it, steady as the curl of cigarette smoke that reached up in smoky trails towards the ceiling.

...

Jane stormed upstairs, tears in her eyes as she banged on Thor's door, shaking so hard she could barely stand. She didn't realize someone had opened the door until her next swing connected with a thin, cool chest.

"Ouch," Loki remarked, quirking an eyebrow. "I thought we were no longer fighting over my Thor?"

"Where is he?" Jane rasped, half-sobbing. "Please, I—I need to talk to him, to _someone—_ "

"I am here, Jane," Thor said, his voice gentle; she felt his arms wrap around her and she sobbed in sheer relief. "Pray tell, what would trouble you so? It is barely past dawn."

"Tony—Tony _hurt himself,_ Tony put—put wires into the reactor, he's letting the stupid serum _k-kill him_ so he can be with Steve again, and—and I just, it—it's like watching my dad die all over again, and I just _can't_ , but I have to get my work done, so—so can I please, _please_ stay in your room?" She said. "W-we have things to discuss. About magic. And...and things."

Thor's eyes went dark, but were heavy with a sense of understanding as well; he sighed and shook his head.

"Anthony keeps his own vigil now," he said, "as my brother did with me. It is risky, Jane, but the greatest things in life come with risks, and Steven was the very greatest thing in Anthony's life. He finds it worth his pain."

Jane just shrugged it off, shaking her head.

"Loki, can you...can you please go get Darcy while I set my equipment up?" She asked. "I could...I could really use her right now."

Loki surveyed the woman before him before sighing and magicking his clothing on, preferring to be fully dressed before traipsing around their home on a scavenger hunt.

"I will search for her," he agreed. "Set the machine up, lady Foster, and I will see what we can make of it."

It took a minor burden off of Jane's shoulders—not that it was Loki's concern, but Thor's beaming grin of pride that Loki received mattered, and left him sauntering down the hall  with a small smile on his face.

...

Loki made his way through the base with ease; Jane's room was not far. He had to speak to Darcy; he figured she ought to know her lover was having a nervous breakdown in his room, and perhaps collect her before she got any of his pillows sodden with her tears.

Loki didn't quite notice Sif until something in his mind clicked; he realized with a small, triumphant smirk that he could easily corral the goddess into this. If anyone could get Jane to open up, or at least cease wailing, it would be the lady Sif.

"Lady Sif," Loki cut in, making her look up with surprise. "Please, forgive me for intruding, but I know you will be concerned; the lady Jane came to us not but a few minutes ago, begging for our comforts. We are not in the business of wooing her, and I am more than aware of your interest...if you wish to meet her, she is in our room."

Sif looked away, gritting her teeth and sighing.

"It is improper," she said. "Not unless her beloved is present. I would not wish to be seen as intruding."

"For the love of Yggdrasil, Sif, I'm going to fetch Darcy; don't be an ass, she's in need of comfort! Go to her. I'll fetch the other maid, but right now, she could use any comfort available. Please," Loki said. "She needs you."

_And that will keep Thor out of this._

Sif smiled, and, to his utter and complete shock, embraced him warmly. Loki was a stiff, sharp icicle beneath her touch for a few seconds, unyielding, until he realized she wasn't trying to sink a knife into his ribs and sighed in relief, relaxing just a little. She was not Thor, but he liked the touch.

"How honorable, Loki," she murmured with a small smile. "I am...touched, truly, that you would think of another in such a way."

"Certainly," Loki said, keeping his face neutral. "She is in emotional distress; surely that is an enemy you have learned to fight as well as your normal foes, Sif?"

"No," she admitted with a heavy sigh, "but I'm learning. Thank you, Loki. I will see to her immediately; please tell Darcy I am there already at your implorings, however, if you would. I would rather if she not get the wrong idea about my intentions..."

"Of course, Sif; off with you, she needs you," Loki said, shooing her away with a quick gesture. 

Before he could, she kissed his cheek, grinned, and went to seek out Jane.

Loki grit his teeth and shuddered. Ugh. An embrace was one thing, but he had lusted for Thor's lips and no other's on his skin for all his life, and he saw no reason for anyone else to start getting ideas about that sort of thing now. (Except his mother, but that was _different._ ) Sif was supposed to punch him, not kiss him.

Loki shook his head, wiped his cheek, and went to go find Darcy.

He didn't even have to knock on the door; before he could so much as raise a hand to do so, the door was wrenched open in front of his eyes, Darcy standing at the threshold with blazing eyes as she gripped the side of the doorframe.

"What did that fucker do?" She snarled. "I will punch him in the _dick_ if he got his stupid ass hurt, I swear to fucking _god_ , the _second_ Bruce came to the door I knew there was trouble, I don't _believe_ —"

"He is unharmed," Loki interrupted her, "but she is crying. Whatever he did affected her deeply."

Darcy grit her teeth and went to get her robe, yanking it on as she stormed off. 

"Then I'm _still_ gonna punch him in the dick!" She snarled. "That _ass,_ I can't _believe him_ , what the fuck _happened_ —"

"I can't say I know, Darcy," Loki said, "nor do you know where you are going, so if you could perhaps hold on for just a moment..."

Darcy stopped before turning around to him and wincing, grinning weakly and shrugging. 

"Right, sorry," she said. "Uh, lay on, MacDuff?"

"...Certainly?" Loki haphazarded. "I am not MacDuff. I am Loki, son of...son of no one."

"Wow, must've been an interesting birth," Darcy remarked. "Whatever, dude, it's just a reference; tell me where she is, mmkay?"

"Thor's room," Loki replied. "The Lady Sif has gone on ahead to attend to her; she hopes you do not take offense."

"Nah, nah; that's...really sweet of her," Darcy grinned and Loki knew it; both women were hopelessly besotted idiots. Though he supposed he could not judge too harshly any longer, considering Thor. "I'll go. Thanks, Lokes. You gonna get breakfast?"

"Indeed," he said. "I will bring up coffee and muffins."

"See, I knew we kept you around for a reason," Darcy said. "Aside from the nice ass and the smart mouth. That's more why Thor keeps you around."

"I could say the same in kind for him, so I do not take offense," Loki said. "Off with you, my lady."

"Wait, hold on first—smart? Thor? Smart?" Darcy asked, baffled. Loki smirked.

"There are different kinds of intelligence, my lady," he replied.

Darcy went to Jane's room, still giggling. Loki just smiled wanly and went to rustle up breakfast.

...

Darcy opened the door and stormed in, a fluffy pink be-bathrobed ball of fury. Thor smiled, relieved, and murmured, "Greetings, lady Darcy. Loki summoned you?"

"Yeah, yeah; hey, Sif. Thanks for coming to see her, it means a lot," Darcy said, kissing Thor's cheek before immediately turning to lover and Sif. Jane sat on the bed, sniffling and wiping tears away, trying to give Darcy a shaky smile.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you up, babe. I didn't know Bruce was going to...and _Tony..._ "

"Yeah, no, don't you dare start apologizing, I'll be really annoyed," Darcy said, her voice stern. "You don't need to apologize when you're crying. House rules."

Jane sniffled and gave her a warm, watery smile. Darcy stroked her hair, sitting on top of her and Sif's laps, giving Jane a firm hug before looking at her and asking, "So, what happened?"

"I...I didn't—the s-serum was going to take Tony another month at least, he said, and he needed the machine to go faster so the serum could synthesize faster," Jane rasped, "and...and so he hooked himself up to it. He has the reactor hooked in there and he's letting the stupid machine take all his energy to power up." 

Darcy got quiet for a minute. 

"I—I just, I know, I know...he wants Steve back, I mean, I can't blame him at all, who would? And...and he's doing it so we can leave here faster and S.H.I.E.L.D. won't find us, and we'll all be safe and sound and back with Pepper and Phil, I know, I just...I mean, it...it's not okay! It's _not okay_! He's _hurting himself_ , I don't _care_ how he justifies it, he's letting himself get _hurt,_ and I can't—I can't let him, but I mean, if we take the wires out, he'll _die,_ so I just—I can't watch him do it, okay?!" Jane said, tears running down her cheeks. "I just _can't,_ Darce!"

"I know," Darcy said, her voice rougher and softer than she had imagined it could be. "I know, Jane. Cry it out, baby. I know."

"I don't—I don't wanna watch dad die again," she sobbed, her voice slurred with tears, drowning in the rivers running down her cheeks, "I just, I can't, I can't watch him let that stupid machine feed off of him for nothing, I—I just, Darce, he—I can't, _I can't._.."

"Hey, hey...c'mere, baby," Darcy hugged her tight and kissed her forehead. "He's not our responsibility, baby. I know you're sad, but...Tony can take care of himself. If there's nothing you can do...there's nothing you can do. He's got Bucky and Bruce to take care of him. He'll be just fine. You won't need to protect him, and you're not gonna watch him waste away, all right?"

"Okay," Jane said, her voice tiny and quiet. "Darcy, I'm still scared."

"That's okay, babe, but just remind yourself that you'll be okay, and so will he. It's not like your dad. Your dad thought he had nothing to live for, and that's why he did it. Tony's doing it so he'll _have_ something to live for. He won't go too far. Not with Steve on the line," Darcy promised.

Jane sighed, her shoulders slumping. 

"I guess," she mumbled. "But...it was scary. And it hurt. I thought I could trust him to be careful..."

"Anthony has improved in most areas regarding his personal care," Thor spoke up quietly, "but Steven is always the exception to every one of his rules, be they good or ill." 

Jane sighed and nodded, shaking her head.

"I guess," she mumbled. "I just...can't work down there while he's hooked up to that thing."

"And you do not need to," Thor said, keeping his voice gentle. "You can work up here; it is my aid as well as Loki's that you need, not the aid of science. That is entirely your domain, and you will handle it marvelously, Jane; I have the utmost faith in you. We will build this."

"Okay," she said with a warm smile. "Okay. Thanks, guys. All of you. I love you."

"Me? But...my lady, I did not speak..." Sif murmured. Jane turned around to give her a warm smile.

"Nah," she said, "but you held me when I cried so I could get all my words out. Thanks. That...that matters, Sif. It does."

Sif looked taken aback for a second; then, once the idea consolidated itself in her mind, she beamed and nodded.

"Then...then you are most welcome, my lady," she said. "Now, might we partake in breakfast? I doubt you have eaten."

"No, but I was attempting to fix that," Loki interjected, the door swinging open as he came in with a tray piled high with breakfast food. Sif shook her head, amused.

"You are a better influence on him than I could have ever imagined, Thor," she said. "What _are_ you doing to make him so docile?"

"Fucking him senseless into the mattress on a regular basis," Darcy remarked, taking a coffee cup from the tray as both Loki and Thor's faces burned bright red while they looked away, muttering shyly. Darcy snorted. "What? Worked for me."

Then it was Jane's turn to blush and duck her head, mumbling shyly as well; Sif averted her gaze and fiddled with her fingers, trying not to smile at the thought, no matter how tempting.

Darcy just sipped her coffee, unperturbed.

...

Bucky was quiet as he kept watch over Tony, who was keying in the sequences they needed to synthesize the vitamins needed for the Vita-Ray machine as he worked on longer cables, spools of copper wire around his feet. He didn't flinch whenever the arc reactor began to dim, just a little, nor did he protest Tony's actions even when he whimpered in pain, having pushed the cables a bit too far. 

But, when the hour of rest came up, Bucky said, very softly, "Now."

Tony knew that was a voice that demanded obedience, and so he simply nodded, saying, "JARVIS, disconnect the power, let it operate on its own."

 _"Very good, sir,"_ JARVIS replied. "Thank you, James. _You have been a tremendous help."_

"I do what I can," Bucky mumbled, a little abashed at the compliment, looking away nervously. "He needs it, the idiot."

"Thanks," Tony said, yawning and laying down on the cot he had prepared for his hour-long nap. "Love you too."

He was asleep before he could say anything else; Bucky just stood over him, watching him sleep carefully.

"Don't worry about him," Bruce spoke up, making Bucky jump with sudden surprise. "I mean...don't be scared. He's brave, he's good at this...and he's determined to see Steve again. I know he'll be fine. He's my friend, and I trust him."

"I...I know," Bucky said. "But I wish I could do more. For Steve's sake."

"You know," Bruce replied, "he's thinking the same thing. If...if that clears it up a bit."

Bucky stared at him for a long, slow moment of consideration.

"You know," he murmured, "it kinda does."

Bruce smiled, pleased, and went back to his work with a small hum, letting Bucky stand guard as he liked; Bucky might wish he could do more for Steve, but he could definitely do more for Tony, and it was a small comfort in the sea of turmoil they'd all found themselves swimming in.


	45. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and friendships forged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony/Bucky BrOTP forever, though.  
> I'm almost out of high school!! Hopefully this will improve update speed. <3 Summer vacation, yay!!

Maria came back to Fury with frustration etched tight into the lines of her skin, making them deep and stark; he knew without even having to ask that they hadn't found them in Calcutta.

"Nothing?" He asked anyway, because she might know something he couldn't get exclusively from watching her lose her mind in front of his desk.

"Do you know how hot it is in India, sir? And how easily field agents get sick?" She said. "I don't know how Banner did it for a year. The Hulk must've kept him from contracting disease. I wish I could've said the same for our group."

"It's possible, and there's nothing to be done about the sickness; at least we've gathered that they aren't in Calcutta. Has there been any success in Russia?" Fury asked. Maria sighed.

"Not much," she admitted. "We've been doing scans of the place before we send field agents in; it's too dangerous to be running around half-cocked in a hellhole like that. Nothing so far, but there are bases we don't know about that the KGB had set up, I'm certain."

"We do, however, know where the Black Widow was stationed; focus on those, first. And don't forget about Siberia. They built the gulags side by side with their offices there, remember," Fury said. Maria nodded, her shoulders slumping as she sighed.

"All right, sir, but I admit—I have another question," she said. "Regarding Agent Coulson..."

"There is no point in holding him as hostage until we have at least secured the position of the Asgardians," Fury said. "Regardless, let's not run into that half-assed either; I want a cell prepared."

"Of course," Maria agreed. "Anything else, sir?"

"No; tell them to start looking through Widow's old haunts and not to miss Siberia. After that, well, it's nine at night; go home. Victoria went home an hour ago," he said. Maria looked pained.

"Right, right. I know she was worried..." She sighed. "Until then, sir."

"I'll see you in the morning, Hill," Nick said. "Now scram, you've got other places to be."

She nodded, leaving his office without another word; he watched her leave before picking up his office phone, dialing quickly, and as soon as he heard the other line pick up, ask, "I need to know how the shipment of Phase 2 is going."

 _"Well enough, sir,_ " the voice on the other line rasped. _"We won't have enough to storm a hideout until...about two weeks from now, I'm afraid. That is, if you think you're taking on Asgardians."_

Fury frowned and massaged his temples.

"There's nothing you can do? You're my top engineers, surely I can expect better than this," he said, his voice sharp. He could almost hear the other man flinch.

 _"Sorry, sir, but after our blueprints were stolen...we're a bit out of luck. We're trying to re-assemble blueprints and keep it all together, but it will take longer than anticipated. We are, however, making a few important adjustments_ ," he said.

"Like?" Fury asked.

There was a pregnant, prideful pause on the other end of the line for a moment.

 _"Let's just say you might as well start calling Phase 2 the God-Killers, sir,"_ he said.

...

"Bucky, I'm curious," Tony piped up after he'd awoken, re-adjusting the wires to fit the longer ones in as they ate dinner, "what do you know about the Tesseract?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, sitting cross-legged in his seat as he ate.

"Well, first, that shit's old," he said. "Older than me and Steve—hell, probably older than Thor and Loki. It's some weird 'cosmic force of creation' thing. The Skull wanted to use it back in our day to build weapons; for awhile, he succeeded...hell, he almost got my whole platoon killed in the bargain, but Steve got us out." 

"Well, isn't that just like him," Tony said. "Just weapons? Or like, world-conquering shenanigans?"

"World-conquering weapons," Bucky confirmed. "Steve had to have stopped him, but...I never got the details, for obvious reasons." He sighed. "The weapons were all ridiculously strong; ate right through tanks and concrete like they were paper."

"Well, shit," Tony sighed. "That explains a lot. This thing isn't new, then."

"What thing?" Bucky asked. Tony slumped his shoulders and leaned back against his chair, chewing on his food as he thought about the best way to explain himself. 

"When we used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., I mean, before they offed us...there was a thing Fury had going called 'Phase 2,' sorta like what the Skull was up to," Tony explained. "He was building super-weapons with the Tesseract. And he wanted us to start waging war with them. Steve...wasn't fond of the idea, to say the least. On top of that, he wanted us to start using them back in Afghanistan, which I wasn't fond of either."

Bucky gave him a look of confusion; Tony sighed.

"Prisoner of war," he said, tapping the reactor. "I got this here."

Bucky was quiet for a moment. Then he put his hand on Tony's shoulder; its weight was heavy with understanding and solidarity, but despite the pressure, it lifted a burden off of Tony's shoulders.

"So...yeah, I guess—we just decided enough was enough. No more warfare, no more souped-up cosmic weapons; we wanted to be heroes, not murderers, you know?" Tony said. "So we ran. And then they killed us."

"Abrupt ending," Bucky said with a rueful grin. "But...that's why Nat came to find me. I guess it makes sense."

"Yeah, it does," Tony said. "And you helped us out majorly, so I'm not complaining about her skipping town. Phil gets it, at least. It was _him_ I was worried about, honestly. He's over the moon about them both, though he's shit at admitting it."

"I can understand that," Bucky replied. "Emotions are a hell of a trip."

"Putting it mildly," Tony agreed. "But they'll be back with him soon. Mama bear that he is, he's never letting them out of his sight again, I tell you that. But somethin' tells me they won't mind."

Bucky chuckled, giving him a look and nudging his shoulder. "Something tells me Steve won't be too eager to let you go, either," he teased. "You know him."

"Oh, god, I won't go down into my lab without a shadow for months," Tony sighed, but there was a silly grin on his face. "He fusses so _much_."

"He does," Bucky agreed. "That idiot would have a hundred-degree fever and he'd still be telling _me_ to lie down."

"I bet," Tony murmured. "Did...did you take care of him, Bucky?"

"Whenever I could," Bucky said quietly, his tone softening. "I watched over him best I could. Part of the reason he hates himself for what happened, I think, is because...he couldn't repay the favor when he needed to the most."

Tony nodded, solemn. 

"He hated himself a little less when I knew him," he said. "After we'd gotten through to him, I mean. I just thought you might like to know."

Bucky's face grew soft and wistful as he sighed, sipping his drink. 

"Thanks," he said. "And yeah. It's nice to know. I mean...god, I left him for so long, and I didn't even _remember..."_

"It's okay," Tony murmured. "Hey, hey; no pity parties in the lab. They make a mess."

Bucky actually cracked a small smile at that; Tony ruffled his hair and smiled, content. 

"Hey, look; Steve blamed himself for your death—something he had no control over and wasn't responsible for, and that's ridiculous, right?" Tony told him. Bucky nodded.

"Right," he agreed. Tony grinned.

"Yeah, see? So, isn't _you_ blaming yourself for something you had no control over and weren't responsible for ridiculous, too?" He said.

"...I suppose," Bucky agreed after a moment's pause. Tony ruffled his hair; Bucky squawked in protest and swatted him away, but he was smiling.

"Good, then you get it. No more worrying, okay? He'll be thrilled to see you the second he wakes up," Tony said. Bucky gave him a firm look.

"I won't be the only one," he reminded him. 

Tony nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little as he took a water bottle and drank; the others had forbidden him coffee while he was hooked up to the machine, reminding him it would kickstart his heart even more and endanger him further. Tony let it slide; he knew they were worried, and they weren't fighting him on the machine itself anymore, so he was content.

A few weeks without coffee were worth Steve.

...

Annaby Prester put up with a lot, all things considered. She liked her job at S.H.I.E.L.D. for the most part, and loved her partner. She just didn't understand why all these horrible things kept happening to her lately.

"Siberia? Fucking _Siberia_?" Devon said, shuddering in her jacket as they trudged through the snow. "Are you kidding me? We just spent a _week_ in Moscow and now they want us to go to _worse Russia_?"

"Yeah, they do," Annaby said with a sigh. "It won't be long, though; we have a list of places specific to where the Black Widow normally trained or resided in. We'll be there and out in a week."

"But there might be _gods_ there," Devon said, shuddering as she wrapped her jacket around her tighter. "I don't wanna get thrown through a wall again!"

"Neither do I, love," Annaby replied, lighting a cigarette more for warmth than the actual tobacco. "But we're not going to engage with them. Not until we've confirmed their presence, and the Director's gone and done...whatever the hell he was planning to do to secure their cooperation."

"You don't think it'll be enough?" Devon asked, tilting her head and looking up at her.

"No," Annaby replied. "I think it'll go too far. And he'll like it that way."

They both went quiet for a second. Then Annaby sighed, dropping the cigarette.

"C'mon, kiddo," she said. "Trains only run for another hour, and we need to get to Siberia and meet up with the rest of the field team."

"Aw, goddamn," Devon sighed, but with a determined shake of her head was soon following after Annaby anyway.


	46. Storming the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil walks the very fine lines of Fury's web. The others face trouble on the homefront.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say for this one, but; to those who might think it's OOC for Phil to basically get complacent, he's not; he's caught up in the game and basically can't see the forest for the trees. It's not complacency so much as focusing on a few pieces of the game while treating the rest as business as usual. To be fair, for Fury, it is.  
> Anyways, enjoy!

Pepper didn't like the way things were going on base lately. It wasn't something she could put her finger on, but it wasn't necessarily something she _liked,_ she knew that much. 

It was about Phil. She was inconsequential to this; S.H.I.E.L.D. had never really been her fight anyway, and maybe Fury knew that. This was a game between S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and that made it both incredibly dangerous and incredibly hard to comprehend. 

Subtle gestures of aggression, unique to agents, went almost unnoticed by her, but the general aura of menace that had started to lurk around the whole area hadn't. She was not dumb, and Phil was not safe—she knew that much.

"Phil," she said one night, after dragging him into a diner where she knew they wouldn't be noticed or overheard, "I need you to tell me what's going on. I know something dangerous is happening, but I don't know _what_. Please tell me; I'm your partner, right? And I need to know what's up so I can protect you."

Phil smiled, shaking his head and sipping his coffee. 

"Pepper, it's nothing," he promised. "To tell you the truth, I can't explain why the Commander has been so aggressive lately; if I knew I was in trouble, I'd tell you...but this just seems more like Maria being eager to remind us where we stand. I wouldn't worry about it."

Maybe, Pepper mused as she gave him a smile and they settled in for dinner, that outsider status was really an advantage, as Phil had said awhile back. He might not know he was in danger, too used to the daily gestures of S.H.I.E.L.D. life...but she wasn't, and she knew. 

Fine, then. If that was the game they wanted to play, let them. If they thought they could never let Phil out of their sight, then so could she. And she happened to sleep in the same bed as him. She had an advantage from the get-go.

Pepper laughed, shaking her head and smiling in triumph. Phil quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything; he just squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly at her as they continued to eat their dinner.

...

A week passed with little incident; the lab crew had finished the chamber and was halfway through the Vita-Ray machines, and with all the Asgardians, each of them possessing a certain level of magic Jane coud use, pitching in on the transport machine, it was nearing completion. 

About halfway through the next week, Tony and Bruce were sitting with their heads together, working out something on a tablet as Bucky walked in with breakfast.

"What's up?" He asked, noticing the look of complete concentration on both scientists' faces.

"Something's wrong with Pepper," Bruce said, a look that mingled worry and murder on his face—Bucky had never been told, but on that look alone, he knew full well that Bruce loved her. "She messaged us last night...she said something was wrong at S.H.I.E.L.D., and with Phil..."

"Oh, shit," Bucky said, "don't tell Natasha."

"Not unless we need to," Bruce agreed. "Tony, tell him what's wrong; I'm going to contact her."

"Uh-huh, bud," Tony said, passing him the tablet and beckoning for Bucky to sit in one of the chairs near Tony's own cot. "Gimme a muffin first."

Bucky set one down in front of him, knowing full well of Tony's little quirk, and Tony grinned, content, and bit right into it. He swallowed a few bites before gesturing at Bucky with what was left.

"See, she says something's up with S.H.I.E.L.D.; like, Fury's been being all...well, Fury on Phil, having the Commander tail him and things like that. Something's up, and she doesn't know _what_ , but Phil's shrugging it off—it's normal, he says, and Pepper's calling bullshit...but she doesn't know what's really going on," Tony explained. "So Phil's in danger he doesn't recognize, and Pepper can't do anything about it."

"Oh, well, shit," Bucky said succinctly. "Look, my advice is, tell her it's not much longer before we've got the serum up and running, and we'll be back to handle whatever it is in less than a week. Don't let her freak out."

"Okay," Bruce agreed, typing a few things in. Bucky sighed, drumming his steel fingers on the machine before him as he considered a few options.

"Listen, if something really bad happens, tell her to let us know; at that point, I say we send Clint and Natasha in. Nothing much can occur in a day or so, and we'll be so close to the end of this little charade by the time something _might_ happen that it's okay if we show our hand. There's no point in keeping there beyond that if they're in real danger. Clint and Nat can steal Phil away and get Pepper out of there too; bring them back here and we'll go from there," Bucky said. "Doesn't matter if Fury knows the game is up. It is. And we'll win. Yeah?"

"I can dig it," Tony agreed with a grin. "Tell her to let us know if something really happens, 'kay, Bruce?"

"Already did," Bruce promised. "Anything else?"

"Nah. Give her some kissyface and send it off," Bucky teased. Bruce blushed, but didn't shrink into himself and hide at the teasing; Bucky had seen enough of the other man to know that meant he liked him. He just grinned and offered Bruce a bagel. "And eat, too, 'cause you know she'd fuss."

He sighed, but nodded in agreement, taking his breakfast as he sent the message off.

"We'll need to go back to work after that, though," Bruce said. "The serum needs another two days to synthesize, including today, and the Vita-Rays are done, we just need to build the machine; we're almost done with it, we just need to hook it up to the chamber."

"And that, I can do," Tony said with a grin. "Lemme up, guys, I can install them without much fuss. JARVIS, pull up the blueprints, I need a reference!"

 _"Of course, sir_ ," JARVIS said, a note of relief in his voice. _"I am glad to know this will be over and done with soon, Anthony."_

"Me too, bud," Tony said with a broad, bright grin. "Steve'll be home soon, and it'll be okay. It'll all be okay..."

JARVIS whirred an agreement as he, Bruce, and Tony set in on connecting both the Vita-Ray chamber and the serum chamber, Bucky hovering like a mother hen as they continued their work. It was peaceful and easy, and for awhile, all of them got to relax.

...

Pepper got the email when she went home; she kissed Phil's cheek, told him she was going to take a shower, and slipped out of the living room to head upstairs, making her way into their bedroom and locking their door as she opened up her phone and accessed her email.

 _"Hey, Pep! I know you're scared, honey. I'm sorry. I know Phil will be fine, though; he's got you to protect him, my love. And Tony's going to have the serum chamber up and running really soon; we'll be over and done with all of this by the end of the week, probably, which means you're going to get us home very, very soon, okay? Don't worry. If something really goes bad, let us know immediately; we'll come and get you and Phil both and bring you back here. There's no point in hiding if it puts the two of you in danger._ "

Pepper smiled, Bruce's words resonating from the computer and through her heart, soothing her better than anything else, except, perhaps, his embrace might have done. She couldn't help but think of the fact that she would be with him soon; not much more than a week at most, and he would be back home, coming back to her...

That was enough to put aside thoughts of the war that his return would signify as she sighed with delight, smiling contentedly and getting undressed. She really did need that shower, after all.

Phil came back to her in about twenty minutes, sitting on the bed with dinner as she exchanged her towel for a pair of pajamas. She didn't even worry if Phil was looking; she knew he would have turned his head and looked away the second he heard the shower turn off.

She climbed onto the bed with him and yawned, closing her eyes and stretching out, letting him stroke her hair. She wanted to know he was there, safe and sound with her; she didn't mind. Besides, he felt so good...

"Pepper, get some rest," Phil said. "If you're tired, don't worry about dinner."

"Nah, I'll eat something..." She yawned and stretched, sitting up and taking a carton of leftovers, nibbling out of it while Phil ate his own dinner, turning on the television and letting it fade to background noise.

"We're gonna be getting a break by the end of the week, right?" Pepper said. Phil tensed and she bit back the urge to sigh in relief; good, he'd understood.

"I don't know," Phil replied, "but if you say so, Pepper, I don't doubt you. We can check in on that tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure," Pepper agreed with a pleasant yawn. "It'll be lovely. Why don't you go take a shower, Phil? I'll clean up dinner."

"All right," Coulson agreed, getting up off the bed as Pepper gathered up the cartons and paper plates, making her way into the kitchen and dumping most of it into the garbage, straightening up the counters and making them evening cups of cocoa. 

The two of them settled into bed after that, content; they drifted off slowly, like the lull of the tides, with hope blooming in their hearts for the end of the week. Pepper still curled tightly around Coulson as they slept, just in case.

...

"We're almost there," Annaby said, stroking Devon's hair soothingly as she helped her off the train. "Don't worry. It's not much longer."

"I'm scared," she mumbled, ducking her head. "I know it's dumb, but I am...I mean, Prester, they're _gods_. If they see us, and they do pick a fight with us..."

"They won't," Annaby promised, ruffling her sleek black hair. "Promise you that. And if they do, hon, well..."

She looked over at the rest of her group. They didn't have much, but if the guns were as good as Fury promised, they had enough. Phase 2 was set and ready to go.

"We've got guns," she said. "Good ones. I'll protect you with 'em, no matter what happens. Okay?"

"Okay," Devon nodded. "Are we heading out?"

"In the morning," Annaby said. "Just so we don't attract their attention. It'll be easier to sneak in early, don't you think?"

"True...do we know where we're going, though?" She asked.

"First one on the list. Locals have said there's some weird ice formations around there; could be magic, s'my guess. That means Asgardians, more likely than not," Annaby said.

"So, it's not gonna be a long walk or a lengthy hunt; we can crash for the night. There's a hotel nearby, if you're ready."

"Oh, definitely," Devon enthused. "Especially if they have heating."

"I'm sure they do," Prester promised, amused. "Come on, then, we've got to get everyone settled in..."

Devon followed after her with a smile, letting Annaby lead her to the hotel for some warmth and peace before she went out and decided fighting with gods was a good idea again. She wasn't as scared this time, though.

This time, she came armed.

...

The Asgardians, plus Jane and Darcy, had all crashed in Thor and Loki's room that night; Loki was too tired to protest their presence, having been thoroughly worn out by using his magic to aid in the construction of the transporter. They slept at complete ease; Loki was draped over Thor like a blanket, his lover's broad chest acting as his mattress, the Warriors surrounding Darcy and Jane like a protective circle, Sif sprawled across both their laps as Darcy and Jane cuddled close together.

Back down in the lab, Clint and Natasha, bored without any gods to beat up, had come to pitch in; there wasn't much they could do in the way of building things, but they told Bucky all about some of the things that had gone on before he'd returned, showing him with subtle stories what his life would be like in Avengers Tower from now on. If that struck any fear into Bucky's heart, he didn't show it, too eager to lap up stories of a happy family, of Steve.

Morning eventually crept over them, an unwelcome guest at their peaceful slumber parties, but they did their best to make the most of it.

"I was thinking," Sif said, stretching out, "of scouting out our surroundings. We haven't been here long, so it is forgivable...but truth be told, my body is too worn to do much fighting after all the work we have put into this, and I cannot bear another day with this machine."

"It's almost done anyway, Loki and Thor really just need to kickstart it once we're all ready and we're set," Jane said, looking up at her and smiling hesitantly. "So, uh...why don't we all take a break? Get some winter clothes on and go out in the snow?"

"Fuck that," Darcy mumbled into the pillow. "I don't want to and you can't make me."

"Please?" Jane asked.

Darcy grunted.

"Please, my lady," Sif murmured. "I would appreciate your presence." 

Darcy sighed heavily and sat up, giving them all a wounded look before nodding in agreement.

"Fine, fine," she said. "Double teaming me is unfair."

"But fun," Jane said with a small, mischievous smile.

Darcy threw a parka at her as she started to pull on her own winter clothes, strapping herself up as the others roused themselves to do the same, eager to get out and enjoy themselves. 

"Must we take the weapons?" Jane asked, watching them strap swords to their belts. Sif nodded.

"We must," she said. "We do not know this place, nor any dangers it may hold."

"Is freezing your tits off one of them? 'Cause, y'know, I mean...ouch," Darcy said.

"I hardly think anyone would notice in your case," Loki drawled, stretching out like a languid cat, shamelessly grinding himself against Thor as he did.

Darcy kicked him, grumbling indignantly as she finished dressing, throwing a bra at Loki for good measure.

Thor awoke in slow degrees. The first thing he did upon realizing he was awake kissing Loki's forehead and then, in sleep-fuzzed tones, demanding breakfast.

"We'll bring you up some in a bit, big guy," Jane promised. "You and Loki relax; I'm gonna need you two later, and you'll need the rest."

"Grand," Loki remarked. "Out, then. We need to relax in private."

"I bet you do," Darcy replied, lacing up her boots and heading out, the others following after her as hurriedly as was possible. 

...

Darcy initially grumped and complained about the whole affair, but once she got going, and the cold wore down to something tolerable, she started to enjoy herself much more.

She flung snowballs at Sif, laughing with glee whenever one of them hit her target. Eventually, Sif, still grinning, picked her up and dumped her into a snowdrift. Darcy squealed in protest and pulled her down with her. 

Jane rolled her eyes, but there was a smile of amusement on her face as she looked around at the cold, grey landscape. It was nice to be here, truthfully. Everyone was at ease out here, and it was a graceful, easy kind of quiet, that made the chill something worth bearing. The world was quiet here, and she loved it.

"This stuff goes on for miles," Hogun remarked, breaking the silence as he looked about. "It is more like the Jotunheim than I find myself comfortable with."

"True," Fandral admitted with a sigh, "but what can be done about that? We are safe here. And as cold as it is, we are protecting fair maids; that, I confess, we have not done for awhile."

"No, and you have not given them your specific brand of _protection_ for awhile longer still," Hogun teased. "That said, I know what you mean. This is...more what we were trained for. We are not scientists or magicians or anything so complex. We are warriors; we protect. This is just...not the kind of protecting any of us are used to. Protection was something aggressive and proactive on Asgard; not here, not against this foe. I worry we will not be able to fight as well as we might, seeing that the playing field is on their terms."

"It is not something I would dwell upon much," Volstagg said, making his way back to them. "There is nothing but snow as far as I can see beyond our home. If there are any foes, they are well hidden—and, should they come here, that does not mean games and lies. That means a fight. That, brothers, is in fact our field."

"Indeed," Hogun agreed. "Still...I find myself restless."

"Then c'mon, let's go!" Darcy said, popping up out of the snow with a huge grin. "There's more stuff up that way, and if Volstagg didn't see anything, we can go past those big ice thorn death-things. C'mon, there's a huge hill up there...can we?"

Sif smiled indulgently and stroked her hair, wiping some snow away from her face and the few loose strands that had escaped her hat and hood. 

"All right, Darcy," she agreed with a gentle, fond smile. "Jane? If you do agree as well?"

"Yeah," Jane said, nodding and helping Sif to her feet. "Yeah, that'd be great..."

"You are unsure of your footing, however," Sif said, gesturing to Jane's boots. "Would you rather I carry you? It is no trouble."

"Thanks, but...I can make it up on my own! It's just a few hills," Jane said with a small smile. "I mean, uh...stay close though, please? Just in case I fall."

"Of course," Sif agreed. "That is the last thing I would ever want."

Jane smiled and took her hand, letting Sif help her up as she, Darcy, and the warriors trudged dutifully on, past the thorns and towards the hills ahead.

...

"Prester?"

"Yeah?"

"That...that looks like big, thorny vines of ice to you too, right?" Devon haphazarded. "I'm not crazy?"

Prester stood up and lifted her goggles up to get a better view. She took it in hesitantly before nodding, her eyes going wide.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, it kinda does."

"I hate magic," Devon moaned with frustration, running a hand through her hair. "I really, really do."

"Yeah, me too kiddo, but you know what that means? That means there's Asgardians in there. We gotta figure out a way past it to get in," Annaby said, putting her goggles back on and going to signal to the field team. Before she could, Devon tugged on her jacket; she turned around to see Devon pointing forward, beaming with triumph.

"Or, they could come right to us," she said, gesturing towards the figures trudging forth on the horizon. 

Annaby smiled and went for her gun.


	47. Lord Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane takes a level in badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the long and short of this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!

Hogun was the first to notice, expert tracker that he was; he swore and drew his sword, shouting, "Damn it, camouflage—a dishonorable trick if I ever saw one. _Move_ , Sif, and get the ladies out!"

"What? Wait, hold up, what's going on, why is everyone all shouty now—"

Darcy stopped the second the quiet was pierced by a deep, cosmic hum.

 _"Shit,_ " she breathed, dropping to her feet as the camo-shields were pulled away, and a good dozen or so S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stood in front of her. "Jane, _go_!"

Jane didn't; she grabbed ahold of Darcy and yanked her away first, just as the first bright, crackling blast of blue ripped the sky in two and struck the closest hill.

Volstagg raised his sword, triumphant; his eyes glittered with battle, with relief at finally being allowed to do what the warriors did best.

 _"Don't!_ " Jane screamed over the snow. "Don't do it, those are _not human guns_! Do _not_ fight them, god damn it!"

"My lady, please, this is what we were meant to do," Volstagg said. "They have raised a challenge, and we cannot—"

Another blast blazed over his head and struck the sword from his hand. Where it fell, it was a cluster of ashes and crisped metal.

" _That,"_ Jane said, "is what will happen to all of you if they hit you. Get _down!_ "

They did just that, hiding behind the hill; all eyes were on Jane as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking as she tried to get her thoughts together.

"Okay," she said, "okay. Okay, look, those are powered by something that sure as hell isn't electricity, and sure as shit isn't bullets. We need magic. We need _magic_."

"Then we need Loki," Darcy said. "Right?"

"No, we can't—if Loki comes, _Thor_ comes, then we're _all_ fucked, and the game is up," Jane said. "They already know there's Asgardians here; we don't want to give them any more pieces of the puzzle, because if we do, it's over. Do any of you have any magical ability at all? I'm not talking innate magic, I mean spells."

"Just enhanced strength and stamina, my lady," Sif said.

"Illusions," Fandral said. "Minor, nothing of a mage's caliber, but it helps weave a story together, I've found.

"All-seeing," Hogun said. "It's how I track."

"Shielding," Volstagg finished. "Lady Foster, how do we—"

"Gimme a minute, just—lemme think, let me—" She inhaled slowly.

"Okay, they can't get past the thorns. Darcy, honey, I need you to be brave for me, can you do that?" She asked. Darcy nodded.

"Duh," she said. "What's up?"

"Sif, take Darcy and _go_. Get to the base, crawl under the snow so they don't see you, do something so they don't see you heading back there. Get in and go get Loki. If he can cast  something from inside the base to get them out, tell him to do it. Do _not_ tell the others. We don't need a full-scale fight on our hands," Jane said, inhaling sharply. "Please, please be careful."

"Always," Sif promised. "I will return to you."

"Great, great," Jane said. "I know. I trust you. Fandral! Illusions, right? Can you make copies of us?"

"Not for long, but yes," Fandral said. "Why?"

"Hogun, tell me where they are," Jane said.

"A hundred feet behind us, my lady," he replied. "They are readying their guns; they do not appear capable of more than a few concentrated blasts yet."

"Great, that's totally great," she said. "Okay. Volstagg, I need you to shield us while Fandral creates an illusion; while they're distracted, go around and get them. Don't kill them, please, I can't—I can't handle that, and we're not going to be able to get out of here if they start shooting to kill too. Just incapacitate them and take as many of those weapons as possible, okay?" 

"It will be done," Volstagg promised, embracing her. "Have no fear, Jane. We will accomplish it as you say."

"Okay," she said. "Okay, I'll just—"

"Come with me," Sif said firmly. "You are not to fight, this is _not your battlefield—"_

"Yes, it is," Jane cut her off. "It's not for me to fight on. It's for me to command."

Sif got quiet. Jane didn't drop her gaze from the goddess', not for a moment. She stood firm.

"...All right," she finally said. "Darcy, come. We will be safer inside."

"Don't die, okay?" Darcy said, her voice shaking. "Please don't, I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl," Jane said gently, kissing her forehead. "You let Sif keep you safe. I love you both, now _go!_ All of you, _go!_ "

Her voice was like the trumpeting call to arms the warriors knew so well; without quite thinking, simply settling into instinct, they all did as they had been commanded.

Sif grabbed Darcy and held her close, digging through the snow and forcing her way forward, thankful for Darcy's white coat as she clung tight to her, shaking with fear. She murmured softly to her in the old tongue of Aesir, unsure of what to say that might comfort her.

Fandral closed his eyes and began to murmur; it took a few minutes, but Jane saw apparitions of all of them, like solid mist, stand up from the snows and go charging towards the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, swords as bright and flimsy as moonlight raised high.

Jane heard the blasts and shuddered, trying to keep her stomach from disgorging itself. She had things to do, and they were safe.

"Hogun, are they out of power?" She asked. The tracker nodded, looking over the hills.

"Yes, they appear to be," he confirmed. "The light has dimmed."

"Good, now _go_ ," she said. "Volstagg, put up shields just in case, please! And all of you stay safe!"

"We will," they promised. 

Jane nodded, shooing them off as she curled up in a ball and breathed, slow and steady and full of purpose as she watched them creep off, as careful as they could be, trying not to shake as she kept her eyes focused on the pristine, pure white snow in front of them instead of the fight going on at her back.

...

The warriors threaded through the snow with ease, well-honed by travels to the Jotunheim; the cold did not bother them any longer now that battle beat time in their veins, its thick leathery drums pounding out a glorious rhythm that assailed their senses and allowed them to surge forward with ease.

There were a dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents against the three of them. They privately thought this unfair; surely a hundred would have made the match more even.

Still, with two ladies on the line to protect, they did not think much upon fair fights; only, perhaps, a quick one.

And a quick one it was, though not for lack of valor or strength; Volstagg surged forward first, and even without his sword, knocked two of the largest men unconscious as Fandral easily incapacitated two more with a simple smack with the hilt of his blade. Hogun threw three men across the hills with a skilled, restrained grace, smiling with triumph when the bodies fell.

"We should thank the agents," Fandral said as he felled another man, "they have taught us much of the fighting styles of S.H.I.E.L.D. through their training."

"True enough," Volstagg said, tossing aside another man and knocking him unconscious. "Though I'd wager these foes are not too grateful."

"Is an enemy _ever_ grateful for another's skill or valor?" Hogun asked, tossing one more aside. 

"No, perhaps not," Volstagg said. "Come, we need to gain one of these weapons, as we were ordered—"

The three of them stopped as they felt, rather than heard, the cosmos gathering power up for another go.

 _"Get away from her,"_ Devon snarled, her eyes blazing as she drew an enormous gun and stood before her partner, every inch howling fury. "I'll kill _every last one of you_ if you take another _step_ towards her, I swear to _god_!"

Volstagg stepped forward; his shield was the strongest, considering it was his magic, and he was fairly confident it would hold. If not...he was sure Hildy would take good care of their children.

The blast rocketed out of the gun with wild, blazing celestial power, until suddenly, it was stopped cold.

Volstagg had no time to consider why, or how, only a brief moment of gratitude before he took the gun from the woman's trembling hands and shook his head.

"Take care of her, then," he said. "and do not allow her to come to such blows with Asgard again. It will be safer for all of you that way."

The warriors fell back, weapon in tow, as Devon stared at Annaby, jaw agape. 

Before any of them had time to try to re-assess the situation, they were gone.

...

Sif pulled Darcy through the thorns and made her way upstairs, shouting insistently for Loki as she burst into Thor's room.

"Really, do _any_ of you understand the concept of privacy?" Loki grumbled. "May I not have a peaceful afterglow with my beloved without one of you barging in?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," Sif said, and that stopped them both cold. "S.H.I.E.L.D. agents attacking, and we need them out _now."_

"Can you cast a spell from here?" Darcy said. "Please, Loki, make 'em go _away_ , they're gonna kill Jane, _please_..."

"Do not fuss so much, it worries your porcelain complexion," Loki said—about as close to a compliment as the trickster got. "I feel them near; incredibly close to my magic, in fact. That will be their own undoing; it makes this so much easier."

He closed his eyes and began to murmur, runes swirling under his skin in shades of sapphire as he spoke a few harsh, guttural words, like a battle of icebergs, before falling silent.

"The power has been stopped," Loki said. "I feel it. It is...unlike anything I've ever encountered. And so beautiful."

"Loki, please," Thor said. "Wax eloquent on magic later, we need to—"

"Yes, oaf, I know," Loki said, amused. "They are gone. The power has dissipated. But god, it felt so...cosmic. Like drinking the sap of Yggdrasil."

"Ew," Darcy said, wrinkling her nose. Then she realized what that meant and beamed, delighted, flinging her arms around Loki and hugging him tight.

"Man, I love you!" She gushed. "Thanks, Lokes, you saved everyone!"

"Perish the very thought," Loki murmured, but he had pulled her hood down to stroke her hair regardless. "Would you allow me to dress before we commence with the congratulatory embraces?"

"Ew, please do," Darcy said. Loki huffed with wounded male pride dripping from every exhale, getting up to dress as Darcy hid her face in Sif's chest. Sif just closed her eyes and patted Darcy's hair.

Loki tossed Thor his own pants, and the two of them dressed quickly so as to receive whatever news was coming their way. Judging by the sound of footsteps on their stairs, it would not be long.

...

Elsewhere, in Calcutta, Devon was increasingly sure she needed nothing more than a stiff drink and her gun back.

"Fucking _magic,_ " she said, leaning on Annaby's shoulder. "I am going to punch Merlin in the face."

"You do that, hon," Annaby said, holding her close as if afraid of losing her to another godly sparring match. "I'll just call Fury."

...

The warriors came back to collect Jane with the weapon and an expression of almost worshipful awe. She just tilted her head, baffled, as they beckoned for her to follow, all of them slipping between the thorns and heading inside, up to Thor's room.

When they opened the door, Darcy and Sif both ran right for her, embracing her tight; Darcy kissed her face and held her close, stroking her hair and shaking with pure relief.

"Hey, it's okay," Jane said. "I'm all right, really. We got the weapon and we got out of there."

"Loki helped," Darcy said. "I mean, I think."

"He most certainly did," Volstagg said. "If that teleportation was his, of course."

"It was," Loki said, pride clear in his tone. 

"Well, then that is Loki's—but the victory is Jane's," Hogun said. "We may have fought, but she told us how. Without her knowledge of the situation and utilization of what was before her...we would have either been killed or discovered."

"True!" Fandral piped up. "She is no lady; she is a a general, a lord commander."

There seemed to be a consensus decided then and there among the warriors; as Jane gawped, shaking her head, the Warriors Three knelt, Sif bowing gracefully behind them, pride evident on her face as she, too, finally knelt.

"Hail, then, Lord Commander Foster," Thor said, his voice warm and booming and thoroughly amused. "It is a worthy title, and one that suits you well."

At some point, Jane would take all that in and dwell upon it properly. For right now, she would blush and stammer something out that may have been words or pterodactyl screeches—she was not entirely sure, nor did she think it quite mattered, because first Darcy was kissing her, and then, when she pulled away to breathe, so was Sif.

"Congratulations," Sif said, a small smile on her face. "The honor is yours, my lady."

"Uh," Jane said. "Uh. Uh. My room. Go."

Someone wolf-whistled; Loki rolled his eyes and shooed them all out, burying his face into Thor's neck. Thor chuckled and kissed his forehead, watching his friends leave. 


	48. Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil plays a game. Tony is saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Phil Coulson is one of my favorite characters of all time in comics. I'd like to clarify that. It's just, when I like you...  
> Anyways! More Tony pain. I promise this doesn't last forever. And the reunion will be totally worth it. <3

Bucky knew something had gone down, but his entire body wasn't screaming at him to spring into action and fight, so he figured whatever it was, it had been handled. He was too busy making sure Tony didn't do anything stupid with the wires and making sure Bruce rested in between coding vitamin sequences.

When the warriors came downstairs with an enormous gun clenched in Volstagg's hands, Bucky's suspicions were confirmed, raising a thousand more questions in their wake.

"We were attacked," Volstagg confirmed, "by hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. while scouting. Thanks to Jane, we managed to take this from them so that you might take it apart and analyze it. We are all safe...but I cannot say that will last much longer."

Tony looked at the gun in Volstagg's hands and sighed, the lines on his face deepening as he slumped his shoulders.

"Well," he replied, his tone worn down, "thankfully, I don't think this will either. So we'll be out of here soon, with luck; I'll take a look at the gun now, Volstagg, thanks."

"Do we need to prepare for another fight?" Bucky asked, curious. Volstagg shook his head.

"No; you and the Avengers need to remain out of sight for as long as possible. They must not know you are back. Not while they still have your lady and the Son of Coul in their grasp," Volstagg said.

Both Tony and Bruce stopped short with the realization. 

The hand that gripped the machine was turning green. The machine itself began to whirr, its power intensing as the reactor started glowing a sickly white.

"We need to finish this," Tony said, "now. JARVIS, more power."

 _"Sir, that will be dangerous, I cannot—_ "

 _"Now_ , JARVIS!" Tony roared. 

_"I'm afraid, sir, I cannot. A failsafe has been put in my programming, unlockable through voice-activation only; if you are putting yourself in too much danger, I am authorized to delete the task from my systems,_ " JARVIS said. Tony snarled, frustrated, and threw his hands up.

"A failsafe? A _failsafe_? For _that?_ Who the hell put _that_ in?" He demanded. 

For a second, JARVIS faltered, as if unsure of what to say.

Then, very quietly, he replied, _“Steve did, sir.”_

Tony’s face went blank. 

“...’Course he did,” Tony finally said after a few minutes of silence. “He never thinks about the repercussions of these things, the idiot.” 

He sighed, and there was a deep and terribly agonizing love reflected in his eyes as he smiled, wan and weary.

“I’ll get it done as fast as I can,” Tony promised. “We won’t need a whole lot of serum anyway. I won’t let you guys stay someplace dangerous, okay? If you gotta leave, we’ll leave. I can wait here with Steve.”

“No, Anthony,” Volstagg said, his voice solemn. “Thor has told us of your vigil and your sacrifice. We will honor that. And we will ensure that you remain protected throughout it. We will make it through this, Anthony; have no fear. And please get some rest before you examine that gun.”

Tony just nodded, utterly touched; he didn’t know what to say, but as they all bowed and left, he figured they understood.

“I won’t pick it apart,” Tony promised. “Not until I get my break. But...Bucky, do me a favor and take a look at it? You know these weapons. See what you can do.”

“I will,” Bucky promised. “Bruce? You okay?”

“Fine,” he rasped. “Fine, I’m...fine. But _Pepper_ —”

“Will be _fine_ , bud. Absolutely fine,” Tony promised. “She said as much; she’s not what Fury wants. To be honest...”

He sighed and leaned against the machine, thinking.

“It’s _Phil_ I’m worried about,” he said. “Which means we might need to talk to Clint and Natasha soon.”

They all shuddered at the thought before they could stop themselves. 

...

Fury listened to Annaby's story, not saying a word throughout the entire tale.

Then, very quietly, he said, "I'll arrange for you all to be on a jet home by morning. Be careful in Calcutta, agent."

After that, he hung up.

"Hill," he called. "I need you."

She was at his side as if she had never left in scant seconds, watching him carefully. Fury's single eye looked up at her, glimmering with some emotion she couldn't name, let alone understand.

"Coulson," Fury said. "By tomorrow morning. Is the cell prepared?"

"Yes, sir," Maria replied, her heart heavy with something indescribable. "It is, sir. If you'll need it."

"We'll need it in the morning," Fury said. "Bring Agent Potts along. Just so she doesn't get any ideas."

"Of course, sir," Maria replied, bowing her head. "Are our field agents all right, sir?"

"Transported to Calcutta, but they'll live," Fury told her. "They'll be back soon. After that...we get the rest of those weapons going. If they agree to hostage terms...maybe we won't need to use them quite yet."

Maria didn't believe him, but she nodded in agreement nevertheless as Fury dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

When she walked out, she felt like she was walking up the steps towards her own noose. She shook it from her mind with a shudder, inhaling slowly and going to find Victoria. 

Coulson had made his choice as much as she had. Hers just happened to have been the better one.

...

Pepper sighed and bit into her dinner, watching Phil over the table and wondering what to say that wouldn't make him think she was going crazy.

Something had gone wrong. Something was going to go even _more_ wrong if they didn't watch it, and he was right in the crossfire. She, however, was wandering blind over landmines, and she needed to figure out something to do, fast.

"Something wrong?" Phil asked her, his voice gentle. "I'm sure they're fine. Just busy."

It's not that, Pepper thought, but she didn't voice it, nor the real problem at hand. She just smiled and noddded.

"Sure, of course," she agreed. "Hey, Phil; you wanna go upstairs for the night? I'd like to watch a movie. Together."

"Oh, uh—of course, it's fine. I'm not busy. I'll make cocoa, you go find a movie," Phil said. "If it'll make you happy, Pep."

Getting him the hell out of here and backing over Fury with a bus would make her happy, but she kept that thought to herself as she went upstairs, trying to plan.

She couldn't get to Siberia by tomorrow. Whatever this was, she had to handle it on her own. And that meant going up against S.H.I.E.L.D. entirely on her own.

Pepper swallowed, clenching her fists into tight, sharp secluded marks of strength. For Phil. For Phil, anything.

He came up to her a little while later, after she'd showered and was warm and content, walking out of the shower with a robe on. Phil smiled, and it lit a gentle fire in her heart; something that made her feel safe. Phil just...had that feel about him in general. He was her safety.

...And if she wasn't careful, she would lose all that come the morning.

Pepper embraced Phil tight and kissed his forehead as they climbed into bed.

"I love you, okay?" She said. "I love you so much. Don't leave me, Phil. It'll all be okay. I promise. I'll protect you."

"Of course, Pepper," Phil replied, kissing the top of her head as he handed her the mug of cocoa he'd brewed. "I'll do the same, I promise. Drink up, okay?"

Pepper didn't know what else to do, and so she did. She watched a movie with him and had hot cocoa with him, and in the back of her head she curled up in a panic, waiting for the inevitable rising of the dawn, and whatever its tides would bring with it.

...

The next morning, Pepper dressed him. She didn't explain why, and Phil didn't protest; he let her button up his shirt, tie his tie, slip on his suit jacket, and kissed his cheek before she dressed herself, slow and ritualistic, like she was preparing for something. Phil let it be; she was on edge lately, and he didn't know how to solve that—the least he could do was be there for her.

He kissed her cheek in kind as they went downstairs to eat breakfast and prepared to leave, coffees in hand as they climbed into the car.

Pepper squeezed his hand and kept her own soft, smaller hand on his as he drove through the city and towards base. She had no idea what awaited them there, but he sure as hell wasn't going to face it alone.

When she walked into work that morning, she did not meet the Commander; Victoria stood in front of them, a nervous, small smile on her face. Pepper realized with a sinking heart that it was deliberate; neither of them would strike out against her. She wasn't a threat. 

"Good morning, Agent Coulson," Victoria said. "Agent Potts, are you all right? You look distracted."

Pepper shook it off and steeled herself, giving her an easy smile.

"No, sorry; I was just thinking. Is something the matter?" She asked. Victoria nodded.

"It's nothing serious. The Director would just like to see you down in the technology section of base; he requested you to make your way there as quickly as possible," Victoria said, inclining her head. "Good day, both of you."

 _She doesn't know_ , Pepper realized with a numb sort of surprise as Victoria went off to find Maria, _they didn't tell her. So she couldn't tell us; not even if one of us pressed her_...

Pepper's eye twitched, but she held firm. She could do this, whatever it was. She was with Phil. They were safe.

He smiled at her and rolled his eyes a bit, murmuring as if conspiring to break regulations and leave again, "C'mon, Pep. Let's go see what the Director's so eager to show us."

Her heart ached and she wished for a second his theatrics had been genuine; that he had been willing to take her hand and run, run far away until they could get to the people who loved them, who could fight this battle in ways _neither_ of them could.

Then Pepper remembered what had happened last time they thought that was plausible and kept her mouth shut.

She took Phil's hand and held it tight, tight enough that she let herself believe nothing could separate them. Phil squeezed back, and for a second longer, Pepper had hope.

And then they went down in the depths of the labs and went to face the Director on his own turf.

Pepper just focused on the feel of Phil's skin beneath her own as she rode down the elevator with him.

...

Phil looked at Pepper and smiled as soothingly as he could, rubbing his thumb in small circles over her hand. She had been on such an edge lately; he hated that there was nothing he could do for her. She was grieving for Tony and Bruce, and he certainly couldn't fix that. The most he could do was be there for her always—and remind her of that.

"Hey," he said gently as they stepped out of the elevator. "You know you're not alone here, right? You've still got me. You've got a partner, Pep. And let me tell you, that's the most important thing in all the world. It means you're safe. No matter what happens, okay? You're safe."

"...Thanks, Phil," Pepper murmured after a moment's pause. "You're right. I'm safe—I mean, I've got you, right?"

Phil smiled, nodding in agreement and stroking her hair for a second, allowing her a moment to gather herself before they both turned to see the Director, watching Phil with a look in his eyes Pepper finally, _finally_ understood.

Triumph. The game had been won. And Phil hadn't even known he was playing.

"Coulson," Fury said. "There's something down in the labs I'd like you and Potts to look at. It's Asgardian in nature, and you're the two agents on-base who know that race better than anyone." 

Pepper didn't like what that implied, and neither did Phil; that much was clear. Still, neither of them said anything, choosing instead to nod and follow him. It was easier, Pepper said, at least, until she knew what was going on.

Then, she thought, as she became aware of the heaviness of the gun on her hip, the game was up. They were getting out of here. One way or another.

The hall they were walking down was dark. Not so dark she couldn't see, but dark enough to make everything shadowed, ominous, dangerous; Pepper swallowed and grit her teeth, holding steady. For Phil's sake, she told herself, despite the horrors clearly lurking just beyond the edge of the soft, eldritch dark.

Fury opened a door, plain and simple; it led to a blank white room, with little in it.

"Asgardian in nature," Fury said. "The tendency towards honor. Debts of life. When someone they care about is in _danger_...they come and save them."

He paused for just a second, not long enough for Pepper's mind to reboot, to make her grab her gun. 

"That's good," he said. "I can use that."

He forced Phil into the room with a single harsh shove and closed the door; it disappeared into the wall as if it had never been, the doorframe enmeshed perfectly with the wall itself, the darkness blurring Pepper's vision.

Fury turned to look at her, regarding her with a single bright eye.

"You'll be fine," he said. "As long as they come for you, of course. But safe? No, Pepper. That, I don't think anyone can guarantee."

He gestured to the briefcase at her feet, the innocuous black leather box suddenly holding so much more weight; all the weight of Phil's loss, something Pepper had yet to recognize and feel as they spoke.

"Why don't you go home and get that paperwork in order," he said. "I'll handle getting the word out about this. It's unfair to put too much workload on you while he's gone."

Pepper was mechanical, gone robotic with shock; she nodded, knelt to pick up Phil's briefcase, and was about halfway up the stairs to the labs before the weight of what she held in her hands dragged her down to the depths of despair and she began to scream.

Fury listened to it as he spoke on the phone with Maria, issuing orders regarding message transmission, and shook his head, fighting a losing battle with a smile.


	49. The Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper makes a call. The boys try to figure out how to break the news gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun starts next chapter. uwu Hope you enjoy!

She was no longer safe. None of them were. Not him. Not Phil. And if _he_ wasn't, then they were _all_ lost.

She had to get home. Pepper could focus on that much even as her mind spun with panic and fear. She had to get home. Home meant JARVIS. Home meant computers, meant Tony.

Pepper got to the car and tore off without thinking, acting entirely on instinct and muscle memory as she blazed her way home, her eyes dull with shock even as her chest heaved with panic.

Pepper unlocked the door only to hear the house buzzing and ringing with silence, and debated, for a second, screaming until she could no longer breathe.

At the very least, she reflected, she would perhaps short out the speakers.

Pepper laughed, dull and dead, before going to get her laptop. She carried it up to the bedroom with shaking hands, her mouth dry and her throat constricted as she tried valiantly to gain air.

She placed the laptop on the bed before moaning in abject panic; she had to calm down, she scolded herself, but Phil, but Fury, but oh, god, she was so scared—

Pepper closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and decided to take a shower.

The water allowed the thoughts to drown, to be hidden under the steady pound of water that massaged her back and shoulders, leaving them for another time as Pepper fought to breathe. There was nothing she could do now. They had lost. And he was lost to her. 

Pepper massaged the soap into her skin as if it could purge away the feeling of hopelessness that permeated every inch of her. She was alone in the shower, but the utter emptiness to the rest of the house was what got to her; it had become a looming reminder of everything she had lost, and the fragile house of cards that she was the last person holding up. 

It took her until the hot water was gone to maintain some sort of semblance of calm and she shivered beneath the cold water for awhile, but eventually, she wrapped herself up in her robe, went downstairs to make cocoa the way Phil had taught her, and went to get her computer. 

Her hands shook as she opened it, her throat convulsing as she tried to focus and compose her thoughts properly. 

_"Madam? Where is Phil?"_ JARVIS asked as she opened up her laptop. 

Pepper swallowed, her throat flexing as she tried not to forget how to breathe all over again.

"They took him, JARV," Pepper whispered. "They took Phil from us."

JARVIS' staticky burst of shock and panic made her wince; he got himself under control quickly, but she could tell he was still reeling.

"Tony," she whispered. "Please, JARV, I need Tony."

 _"I understand, Ms. Potts. Please, we must find someplace better. This is too risky; we cannot have a call now, not in here,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper sighed.

"Right, right," she said. "I have...I have an idea."

There was another briefcase on the floor, right beside Phil's. One of the ones Tony had left to her.

Pepper picked it up and left, her armor in her hand. Despite its weight, it made all the weight she had borne before so much lighter in her grasp.

...

When she flew over the New York skyline, encased in the shimmering red and gold, like a phoenix rising up over the ashy skies of the city, she understood why Tony did this sometimes; why he didn't leave the armor for hours at a time. It was a way to put distance between yourself and the rest of the world. To hide your face and hide your pain somewhere no one could abuse it or exploit it, or make you confront it.

She would get addicted if she wasn't careful. But Pepper Potts was always careful. And so she wasted no further time, once she was sure she was far enough away from anything that might follow her; a single command of, "JARVIS, get Tony," and she could hear the phone trilling in her ear.

It took her a few minutes, and Tony wasn't the one that picked up the phone.

 _"Sorry,"_ Bruce said in her ear, _"I saw it was you calling, and I...I wanted to talk to you. Is that all right?"_

Pepper smiled, tearing up just a bit as she nodded, even knowing Bruce couldn't see her.

"Of course it is, baby," she murmured. "I've missed you so much. Are you okay?"

 _"Me? Yes, I'm just fine. We just had a bit of an incident up here recently, though—yesterday, actually. A few agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. came and attacked us. The Asgardians managed to dispel the threat, and none of us were discovered...but it's still scary,"_ Bruce confessed.

All the pieces fell into place at once, Pepper's mind whirling with the sudden clarity, her temples throbbing with an epiphany as she closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. That explains so much. Oh, god. Oh, god..."

 _"Pepper? Pepper, honey, what happened? Are you okay? Is Phil okay? How are you calling us, actually, now that I think of it—not that I don't appreciate it, love, but.._." Bruce trailed off as Pepper inhaled, sharp and shaky.

"I'm in the suit. I had to use it, and I needed to call, because...because they took Phil," she said. "Fury took Phil. I think he knows the Asgardians...that the Asgardians would come and rescue him. Y'know. He's their Son of Coul. And...and he took him from me. Oh, god, Bruce. Please help me. I'm all alone now. I don't...I don't feel safe anymore. I'm _not_. I—"

 _"Pepper_ , breathe," Bruce said, his voice sudden and sharp; on the shock of that alone, she stopped to do just that. 

_"Sorry,"_ he said, his voice going quiet and gentle again, " _I just don't want you panicking right now. It won't help. What happened, honey?"_

"He took him. I _knew_ something was wrong, I told you that, but he didn't listen, I don't think he _realized,_ and Fury's keeping him imprisoned in the base, somewhere down in the labs. My guess? He's trying to lure Asgard, and whoever's aiding them, out in the open to get him back," Pepper said. 

_"I'd have to agree,"_ Bruce replied. _"Listen to me. We're not going to be much longer. The end of the week at best, my love. Can you hold on until then?"_

"I don't have a choice," Pepper said, her voice quiet and drained. "Sure, Bruce. I'll be here."

 _"I know,_ " he promised, his voice full of regret. _"And soon, I will be too, okay? Don't worry. I promise, it's not much longer. And we'll be there soon, so...don't be afraid, Pepper. I promise, you'll be all right. Just hang on."_

"I'm trying," Pepper said. "I am, I promise I am, just—just please get here soon, okay? Please. I need you."

 _"And I need you, love,"_ Bruce said, his voice rough with longing. _"I'll tell Tony. Don't worry. You go home and you get some rest. I love you, Pepper. Please stay safe."_

"Okay," she promised. "Okay, I will. I'm not going anywhere. I love you too."

Bruce disconnected after that, and Pepper had never felt more terribly alone in her entire life.

Still, she flew back home, unwilling to spend any more time in the suit, for fear of enjoying it more than she could handle right now, and put it away, going upstairs with some dinner and doing as Bruce asked. There wasn't much else she could really do at the moment, anyway. 

...

Bruce put the phone down and massaged his temples, his face pale. For a few minutes, he didn't talk to anyone. Tony looked worried, but having only heard one side of the conversation, he didn't know what was going on, and knew full well now was not the time to ask Bruce.

After a few more minutes, Bruce opened his eyes and looked at all of them, the whole lab now regarding him with worried curiosity.

"Fury's holding Phil hostage," Bruce said. "He wants the Asgardians to come and get him. He's trying to lure us out with a fight."

Tony's face went white, and the machine began to whirr overtime. Bucky just went entirely still, silent as snow.

Erik looked at Bruce before shaking his head in dismay, running a hand through his hair.

The unspoken reality was hanging between all of them like the gallows as they looked towards the stairs.

"We can't...he can't...we can't tell them. They'll go right after him, and we don't...we're not ready, not without the Captain..." Erik trailed off. "And we certainly can't tell anyone else, either."

No one had to ask him who he meant by 'anyone else.' 

"We need to," Bruce said, shaking his head. "They need to plan around going to find him during this fight. Clint and Natasha know that building better than anyone else. If they go after him, they'll get him out; and we need to tell everyone all at once, so they can claim the right to go and rescue him before the warriors get it in their head to do so. Because if they _do_ , we're going to have  _two_ fights on our hands, and frankly, I'm less worried about fighting S.H.I.E.L.D. in this situation."

"Okay. Okay, fine. I'll do it," Tony murmured. "No offense, bud, but I'm not willing to put you in the middle of an argument between the warriors and the terror twins."

"Yeah, no; me neither. If you're willing to handle it, that'd be great," Bruce said with a sigh. "Pepper's so scared..."

"I know," Tony said, looking away and hunching his shoulders. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm...I'm going as fast as I can. It's almost done. We're so close..."

"I know, Tony," Bruce said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, relax. You know no one blames you, all right?"

Tony was quiet, and for a few minutes, he didn't meet Bruce's eyes.

Then he sighed and nodded, looking up at him and hugging his knees against his chest.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Yeah, I get you. I know. We'll be okay. Just...just fine, right?"

"Peachy keen," Bruce agreed, ruffling his hair. "Tony, don't worry about it. C'mon, Tony. Power down so we can all eat and figure out how to break the news to everyone tonight."

Tony sighed, but nodded in agreement as he detached the wires and let them all lead him upstairs. Bruce and Bucky noticed that the look in his eyes had changed, but not even they could decipher what he was hiding in the depths of his mind, and so they said nothing.


	50. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Clint are not happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sif/Jane/Darcy stuff might seem a bit sudden at the end, and I'm sorry; I couldn't put it anywhere else, because the rest of the plot is so seamless from here on out. It only makes sense at this point in time but I'm not devoting a separate chapter to it because that'd be ridiculous, so there you go. Sorry!

It was a quiet dinner; no one quite knew how to talk, and Jane, Sif, and Darcy were all gone. There was only so long the group could hold in their secret, though, and in all fairness, it was something they needed to address, and quickly.

Bruce went downstairs to go handle the last coding with the chamber as Tony stood up, looked at everyone sitting at the table, took a deep breath, braced himself, and said, "Fury took Phil hostage."

Everyone went quiet.

Natasha sunk a knife so deep into the table it came out the other side. The cracking sound of the knife splitting wood was matched by the heavy thunk of plaster splitting. Clint had thrown his own knife so hard against the wall the hilt was pressed againt the plaster, quivering.

"He knows the Asgardians are here," Tony said, staying perfectly still so as not to incite them further. "He wants an open fight, that's all. He won't kill Phil. Not when he's useful. Fury's not the casual murder type. At least he usually has a reason."

 _"He took my lover hostage,_ " Natasha snarled. "I don't give a _shit_ about reasons. Enough, Tony. _Enough._ We have to _go get him_ , _now—"_

"I get it, look—Nat, fuck's sake," Tony said, throwing his hands up, "we can't go _anywhere_ right now, okay? When we get there you and Clint can be in charge of him, it's fine, just wait a few more days, please—"

 _"Why_?" Clint interrupted, his eyes dark and glittering, a tic in his cheek developing as he spoke. "Why, damn it? He's in _danger_ , and we've put him through enough! He's not like us, he's _human_ and _vulnerable_ and ours to _protect_ , and we've waited _months_ to be with him! Why wait another fucking _day_ —"

"Because _my lover_ is lying downstairs in the lab, dead as a goddamn doornail, Barton," Tony snapped. "Because Coulson will live. Steve doesn't even have _that_ right now."

Clint snarled at him. Tony snarled right back. Natasha advanced on them both like a tiger.

Bucky stood up, slamming his metal hand on the table to make it ring out loud throughout the empty room.

"The three of you shut the fuck up," he snapped. "All of you. We're not ditching the plan over this. I absolutely _refuse_ to let a situation get FUBAR on me because you idiots enjoy having fits over your lovers. _Enough_." 

He waited to make sure he had the silence he required before looking around at all three of them.

"We heal Steve before going for Coulson. We need the manpower, first off, and second, going to get Phil and coming back to heal Steve is a waste of time and resources. He is safe where he is." 

_"Not safe,"_ Natasha snarled at him, " _not safe_ , he's with _Fury_ , he's a _hostage_ , _never safe_ —"

"He was a hostage all this time, don't you get it?" Bucky snapped. "This is simply more direct and final. We will handle it later. Sit _down."_

Tony did as asked. Clint stayed standing, shaking. Natasha snarled at Bucky, her eyes wild.

"What would _you_ know about worry for _your_ loved one, Barnes?" she snapped at him. "Don't lie to me. You can't handle the fact that I'm _not your little girl_ anymore, that I have lovers of my _own_ , that my _life_ doesn't revolve around _you_ anymore—is this it, then? Is this how you're going to twist the knife? Who are you _really_  hurting with that, James?"

Bucky looked at her.

"Sit down, Natalia," he said, his voice deceptively soft.

Instead she left in a blaze of auburn, like the fury of a tiger; Clint loped after her, quiet and tense, as if on the hunt.

Tony just took a long, slow drink before putting his glass down with a heavy, finite thud.

"We need to fix him," Tony said. "I'm not leaving this place without Steve. Phil would never forgive me if I did."

"I know," Bucky finally said after a minute's pause. "And you would never forgive yourself, either. Let Natalia deal with her lover right now. You and I have work to do." 

He turned to the Asgardians, all of whom were watching what had transpired with worry, concern, and panic written neat and plain over their faces.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky said. "And don't blame yourself, okay? You saved everyone here. Phil will be just fine. We'll all go save him. Just don't rush into it, okay? You'd have a worse fight on your hands from Nat and Clint than Fury if you tried to get to Phil first."

"...Aye," Thor finally said, his voice soft and heavy. "Thank you, James. We will be fine. I will see to it. You see to Anthony, please, as well as Bruce; doctor, if you would aid him."

"Of course," Erik said. "C'mon, boys. Let's try to finish this up quick. The last thing we need on our hands is an angry Black Widow."

They nodded, and soon enough, everyone at the table dispersed with heavy hearts and fear dragging the pit of their stomachs deep down into their feet.

...

"They took him," Natasha rasped, her voice rough and agonized, "they took him, they took him, my _love_ , _they took him—_ "

Clint held her close and carried her the rest of the way upstairs, kissing her face and shushing her gently, careful and loving. He knew exactly why she was breaking so much harder than he was; this had always been her idea, her battle, and the idea of Phil suffering for her mistakes was killing her.

"Hey," he murmured, "hey, Nat, breathe for me. Ssh, ssh baby. Ssh, it's all right. They're not gonna kill him. They took him, but we're gonna get him back, okay baby? Ssh, ssh. Don't cry. Don't worry. He'll be all right. We'll get him. You'll avenge him, you'll see. Ssh, ssh..."

"I am not crying," she said, "He would not want me to cry."

"Okay, babe. It's okay. I get it, I get it. Just stay with me, okay? I...I'm worried too. I get you," Clint said. "You all there with me, baby? Natasha?"

"Yes," she said as he opened the door to their room. "Yes, my love. I could...I could use a shower, however."

"Sure, babe," Clint said. "Do what you gotta do, I'm gonna change for bed and we'll talk, okay?"

"All right," Natasha agreed, swallowing heavily as she went to shower.

Clint watched her leave with a heavy sigh, going to undress as he climbed into bed, still kicking his pants off before snuggling under the covers and waiting.

It took about twenty minutes of listening to the water running down the drain and pounding against the walls of the shower for her to come back to him. Clint was patient, though, and so he waited through it all and let her climb into bed beside him almost an hour later, wrapped up warm and dry in their blankets and his embrace.

"It's okay," he told her, stroking her hair. "Hey. Don't you blame yourself. Don't you dare. We're gonna go get him. I'm pissed too. I'm angry and I'm scared. But babe, we can't go without the whole team. Tony's being stubborn too, and I hate to admit it, but he's right. We need the whole team. At least then, if we fail...we know we did all we could. But I'll never forgive myself if we fuck up saving Phil 'cause the two of us made a rushjob outta it. Y'know?"

"I know," Natasha said, shuddering as she clung to him. "I hate this. It isn't fair. Why...why can't we get him back, Clint? He's hurt enough. We've hurt enough. Why are we leaving him in such danger?"

"Because we did it before, and we could do it again if we needed to," Clint replied, sighing heavily. "And I hate to say it...but we need to. So we can keep him safe forever after that."

Natasha was quiet for a long time, entirely still in his arms.

"Agreed, Agent Barton," she said, and her voice broke his heart as she nodded, wrapping her arms around him and staying silent for the longest time after that.

Clint just held her close and kissed her forehead, letting her be for awhile while he watched over her until he drifted off himself; it was the least he could do.

...

"So this what we've got, then," Bucky said as Tony closed his eyes, leaning against the machine. "One of the Phase 2 weapons?"

"Yes, that's what they called it," Bruce said. "I know enough about engineering to take this apart to analyze, but really, Tony's going to need to fiddle with it tomorrow. I'm okay with this stuff, but he's the genius."

"Don't sell yourself so short," Tony murmured, hunching his shoulders and sighing. "I'll take a look at it once this is over."

"Don't pressure yourself," Bruce told him, keeping his voice gentle. "Fury won't hurt him. You know that. Don't let Nat and Clint being angry make you take all the blame. You're too eager to do that even on a good day, Tony, and you know I worry." 

"Yeah, sorry," Tony said with a sigh. "I wanna look at it anyway. It'd be good to have it as a weapon when we need it."

"And you'll have time, once Steve's come home to you," Bucky promised. "For now, just let Bruce look at it, okay?"

Tony actually listened, though he huffed in annoyance as he did. Bruce gave Bucky a grateful smile as he began to fiddle with the machine.

"So, if we can at least stop _them_ from using the Tesseract, you think we can remove these weapons from the equation?" Bruce said as he started to take it apart. Tony nodded.

"Yeah; the question remains as to how, though. Bucky, do you know what it was held in when you went to the base?" He asked.

"A containment chamber that registered fingerprints—since I used a prosthetic and wasn't in the system, I got through easily enough," Bucky said. Tony nodded.

"Okay, if we can destroy that system—which, if Darcy learns to hack it, is plausible—Clint and Nat can get ahold of it while they're infiltrating. I'd let you run to get it, Bucky, but we're going to need you on the front lines if we really fight like this," Tony sighed. "Plus, it'll give them something to do aside from be pissy at me."

"They'll get over this," Bruce said. "They're hurt, and scared. I get it, I do—I want to go get Pepper, I want to help her, I want to make sure she isn't alone...but I know why I can't. I'm not the two of them, though; I know their mindset is different. Out of all of us, they know what S.H.I.E.L.D. is capable of the most."

"Yeah, but we'll get him out, you'll see," Tony said. "And...soon. I promise, I'll have this done soon..."

Bucky and Bruce both nodded, letting Tony go back to his thoughts as Bruce took it apart and gave parts to Bucky, to compare to the weapons he had known back during his war.

...

The others had done well to simply leave Sif, Darcy, and Jane out of this one; it was a confusing conversation in the kitchen that night, but the one upstairs in the bedrooms might've topped it.

"Forgive me," Sif apologized, the second that they shut the door behind them, "I did not mean to do such a thing, I just—I couldn't help myself, I should have explained, I am truly sorry—"

"Sif, shut up, please?" Jane said. "You're working yourself into a lather."

Sif did as asked, closing her mouth and looking at Jane, clearly eager for some order that would sort this mess out.

Unfortunately, Lord Commander or not, Jane had absolutely no clue what to tell her.

"I didn't mind that you kissed me. I mean, it was nice! I mean, like, honestly—"

"We've kind of both wanted to bone you for about two months now?" Darcy piped up. Jane sighed. Darcy shrugged. "What? It's the truth."

"I...I am aware," Sif said, shifting from foot to foot, the picture of uncomfortable. "I mean, it wasn't...I wasn't insinuating...I simply..."

"Simply what? Just—Sif, tell me what you mean. That's all I want. The truth, please?" Jane asked. Sif nodded.

"Right. Forgive me, my lady," she said. "It's just...you won. You defeated them. It was a great battle. And...I would be willing..."

It all clicked in Jane's head and she held a hand up immediately after, shaking her head.

"No, no," she said. "No, wait; we're not doing it like this. It isn't like you to offer yourself up like you're a piece of meat, Sif, Jesus _Christ_! I don't want _anything_ we do to start off like _that!"_

"I—forgive me," Sif said, her shoulders slumping. "I simply did not think there was another way."

"Well, there is," Jane said. "And right now...I don't think it's the time. I don't...I'm scared. I feel like I just got a whole new responsiblity I don't understand and can't control, and—and I don't...I don't know what to do. And I don't want to get you involved in that."

"But I want to," Sif said. "If only to help you. Please, Jane, I—"

She stopped, cut herself off, and shook her head.

"I do not wish for you to be alone," she murmured. "I would help you understand, if you will allow me. This is not your world, Jane Foster; it is mine. I know that. But I am honored that you traverse it. And I wish to help."

She turned to Darcy and smiled, cupping her chin.

"The same goes for you, little one," she said, "but you have adjusted better, I believe."

"Yeah, Jane's kind of neurotic sometimes," Darcy said with a grin. Jane rolled her eyes.

"Could the two of you both not gang up on me?" she muttered. Sif turned to her and regarded her with bright, curious eyes; something sputtered to a stop within Jane before kindling something else; something that burned hot and eager in her chest.

"You are right," she agreed. "Enough conversation. Enough fussing and emotion and worry. To bed with you both. I wish to watch over you until the fear has passed and you know what to do. If that is how things will go...then I want to do the best I can to go along with them."

She paused, swallowing heavily.

"But please," she begged, "might I just kiss you again?"

Jane beckoned her close and pulled her down to kiss her without a word. Sif was shaking in her hands as she held onto her tight. She could feel Darcy behind her, kissing at her neck and holding her steady, and as they stayed like that, she had never felt safer.

"We'll be fine," Jane promised as she pulled away. "When this is all over, we'll be all right. And we'll settle it, just like you said."

"We will, Jane," Sif promised in return, stroking her hair. "Have no fear."

The three of them got dressed for bed, and Sif knew without having to ask that the door to their room was not being opened again that night.

She came to their side quietly, letting them pull her in and guide her into her place around them, holding them both close and careful; she did not protest that they took the lead. For once, this was a battlefield someone else was better equipped to fight. But she rather liked it that way, truth be told. It took a great burden off her shoulders and allowed her to fight that much harder for the two women who now slept curled against her, safe and sound.


	51. Jerked Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony uses the serum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I think we can all take away from this is as a person I might be nice but as an author I am an incurable sadist.  
> Anyways, enjoy! Sorry it's a bit short, another awkward scenejump next chapter.

Eventually, the night waned and everyone drifted off, sleeping down in the lab for the night. Bucky fell asleep next to Tony, who laid down on the cot, watching everyone and observing them carefully, waiting for when he was sure they were truly asleep to sit up and undo the wires connected to the reactor, getting up carefully and going to turn on the machine.

It whirred, but quietly, and Bucky had been sleeping more peacefully as of late, and so did not wake. Tony sighed in relief as he keyed in a few sequences, turning the Vita-Ray machines on and opening the serum chamber. 

He went and got Steve's casket, putting it inside carefully and shutting the doors to the chamber, patting the bright metal carapace and smiling until his face ached.

"Hey, babe," he murmured, his voice soft and loving. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you out, okay? Make sure you're safe and sound. You can...you can sleep with me tonight, when you wake up. Bucky won't mind."

Tony turned away to start coding, opening up the serum synthesizing machine and selecting one of the tubes. The rest could stay—they only needed one, and if...if this didn't, they'd...

Tony refused to think about that as he loaded the serum into the chamber, starting the Vita-Ray sequence and turning the chamber on.

The whirring began to intensify, and finally, Bucky stirred, looking up to see Tony standing before the glowing serum chamber, bathed in light, his tears illuminated by the shine of the pale blue Vita-Rays as they bathed the machine. 

Bucky didn't move, tensed and coiled like a panther as he watched Tony. He would wait. If he had to get involved, he would. But for now...

Tony watched the serum pump into the chamber for a few minutes. It glowed and shook, coming to a crescendo, and for the briefest of moments, he dared hope.

_"System failure. Error 6161: incomplete serum formula."_

Tony was quiet as he watched the descrescendo of light, his eyes dark as he watched Steve, his face still and serene as it had been when he started.

He walked over and sat back down on the cot, and for a few minutes, he just shook, hugging his knees to his chest. He didn't even notice the fact that Bucky and Bruce were awake, regarding him with sad, soft expressions.

Then he shoved the wires back into his reactor, snarled up at JARVIS, " _Full power, god damn it!_ " and went back to sleep, rolling over to face the machine and curling up under the covers, as if that would entirely muffle his sobs of agony and despair.

Bucky waited and watched, biding his time until the sobs and shivering ceased, and Tony began to breathe in slow beats again. Then he put his hand in Tony's hair and began to stroke it, gentle and careful as he watched the machine continue its work as if nothing had occurred.

...

Tony awoke the next morning, and for a second, it was as if he had forgotten all that transpired, like it was a half-planned dream that dissipated on waking.

Then he saw Steve's body in the serum chamber and stood up, climbing out of bed and going to stand before the metal shell that still held him entombed.

Bucky, Bruce, and Erik were silent, unsure of what to say; Tony didn't seem like he would hear them, anyway. Not in the state he was in.

"Steve?" Tony said. "Steve, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't screw this up. I...I miss you, bud. I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry you'll come back to everyone angry, and...and I'm sorry I couldn't fix you. We'll...try again soon, okay? B-because it's worth it. For you. Y-you're worth everything I could give." 

Tony gave the cool, pale face of Steve Rogers, as still and stark as it had been beneath the ice, a warm smile. It didn't warm the cold, but it was a small light in the darkness.

"Bucky's here, too," Tony whispered. "So...you'll have at least one person here who you'll be happy to see."

"He misses you as much as you miss him," Bucky said, his voice sharp. He hadn't meant to interrupt, but like _hell_ he was going to let Stark host himself a pity party. "Wherever he is, he misses you too. And he can't wait to get back. Just...give it another day, Tony, that's all it's going to take. It is _not your fault_. You've done more for this project than _anyone else."_

Tony was silent. Then Erik spoke up, his voice hesitant.

"Anthony, I know it's hard on you right now...but, truth be told, Bucky's right. You've done more for the whole _team_ than anyone else. We never would've been able to bring Bruce back if it hadn't been for your hard work. _You_ made sure he would live. Without you, we would've had this chamber built in a year, maybe. Three, if we're being honest. Thanks to you? A month. A month, and two weeks to make the serum, because of your sacrifice. Steve is going to be very, very proud of you, Tony. I know that. Because all of us are."

Tony closed his eyes and gripped the chamber doors for support. Bruce came over and put a hand on his shoulder, careful and quiet.

"Hey, bud," he murmured. "You know I need you. C'mon, Tony. Look at me?"

Tony did as asked, for his best friend's sake, and watched him intently. Bruce recognized but did not acknowledge the tears in Tony's eyes.

"First, Steve will love you no matter what, or however long it takes for him to get here," Bruce said gently. "Second, it's only because of you that we're all here and okay. You've been leading the team in his place, haven't you noticed? And you've done a great job. You've made hard choices and been strong for all of us. Thank you, Tony. I'm so proud of you."

Tony nodded, but he didn't move much more than that. Bruce ruffled his hair and gave him an encouraging smile.

"I might," he said. "have an idea. I was trying to unlock the serum sequence with gamma radiation anyway...what if I gave him some of my blood? He won't go Hulk on us—from the little I've been able to study, that's a genetic predisposition I'm about the only person lucky enough to have...but it might kickstart the serum, since there seems to be something lacking."

"You don't need to sacrifice yourself for this," Tony rasped. "It's my problem. My fault."

"Tony, you act like I'd be slitting my wrist open and draining myself of a gallon of blood. It's a vial. And he's my friend, too," Bruce said, his voice soft. "For all he did to make my life better and more comfortable...please, let me return some of the favor?"

Tony looked at Bruce for a long second, before finally, with a heavy sniffle, threw his arms around him and buried his face into his neck, shaking. Bruce held onto him tight, giving him a few minutes to sob in peace. 

"Okay," Tony finally whispered. "Okay, okay. Thanks so much, Bruce. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome," Bruce murmured in reply. "And thanks to you, too."

Tony just gave him a weak smile as the four started up the lab steps for breakfast.

...

Natasha and Clint were already sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and staring at the wall. Clint was the first to notice, his eyes as good as they always were.

"Something wrong, Tony?" He said, keeping his voice quiet. "You look like you got hit by a mack truck of emotion."

"I tried the serum last night," Tony said. "I wanted to see if we could do it a day earlier and get Phil out faster."

He closed his eyes, so he didn't see the shock on Clint's face, or the quiet dismay on Natasha's.

"It didn't work," he said. "The serum's incomplete. We'll try again tonight."

There was quiet in the kitchen for a long time.

"I'm sorry," Clint finally said. "I know we didn't...react well. Just..."

He sighed and took another sip of his coffee. 

"Look," he said, "when we left, it was to find Bucky. To save Steve and everyone else. For Phil's sake. We left to protect him, and we ended up, well, where we are now. It's hard not to blame ourselves, if you catch my drift. And...we took that out on you. I'm sorry."

"Clint, for fuck's sake, you're a member of my team," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Don't apologize. I get it. I'd be an asshole if I didn't. Besides—it wasn't all because of you two and how you handled it. No offense, but...Phil was there for me too. Phil took care of me when I needed it. I wanted...wanted to repay the favor."

"You will," Clint agreed. "He's a patient guy. He can wait a bit."

Tony smiled, all the tension leaving his body as his shoulders relaxed. Clint grinned, raising his mug. Tony clinked his with Clint's and sat down across from him for breakfast.

Natasha still hadn't spoke, but her gaze was still trained on Bucky after all this time.

"I need to speak with you," she said, and there was no doubting who she meant.

Bucky just nodded and stood up, letting her lead him out of the room. Everyone else looked at each other for a long, slow minute.

"Better him than me," Clint said, taking a bite of his breakfast.

The others sat down and found themselves nodding in agreement before they could stop themselves.

...

"I am..." Natasha hesitated as they stood outside, the quiet snow giving her a chance to say just what she meant, without anything to conflict with her words. "I am sorry, James, for the hurt I put you through."

Bucky sighed, massaging his temples and shaking his head.

"Natasha, you didn't hurt me. You made me accept a truth I should have, frankly, accepted weeks ago. You have others in your life now. There is no shame in not being alone, Natasha. They...they occupy a place in your heart that I never did," Bucky said, his voice soft. "Why would I be angry at them? For what, Natasha? For taking something I never had?"

He closed his eyes and sighed.

"All I wanna know is that I still have what I did before," he said. "I want...I want to be your James. I want to be your...your..."

Natasha looked at him with affection and a warm, understanding swell of love in her eyes. She cupped his cheek and shook her head.

"You never knew what you were to me, did you?" She said, keeping her voice gentle. "No wonder you cannot figure it out, James. No wonder...I caused you pain."

Bucky knew it was better not to dispute that. She leaned in and kissed his forehead.

"You are my guardian," she said. "You always were. You were my brother in arms, my guardian, my protector, and my dearest, dearest friend. Thank you, James. For everything."

"It was always my pleasure, Natasha," he said, leaning down to brush a kiss against the top of her head. "As long as you understand now. I never meant...I never meant to hurt you either. I just...I want my brother back."

"I know, James," Natasha murmured. "He is my friend too. My brother in arms. I was not thinking clearly last night. We must...we must get him back."

"And we will," Bucky promised, stroking her hair. "Not much longer now. And then we'll have Phil back with him. It'll be all right, Natasha." 

"I can only hope, James," Natasha said. "Come. We should go inside; they will be expecting us. Tony needs you. And Clint needs me."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "Thanks, Nat. It's just...good to know where I stand."

"You are where you always were in my heart," she promised. "Even if you worry."

Bucky nodded, letting her lead him inside without another word.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebirth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this one took so long; college orientation was two days, and I've had maybe like 5 hours of sleep so yeah. My apologies. Enjoy. uwu

Breakfast was quiet and content for everyone, until finally, Tony stood up and looked at them all.

"Pack your shit, we're going to get Steve out tonight no matter what I gotta do," he said. "We leave for home at dawn."

"Marvelous," Loki said with a yawn. "Then what, Stark? Rush in and put all our hard work to naught?"

"No," Tony said. "We get Phil out first. Top priority. He's our agent, our coordinator and handler. While we do that, Darcy needs to hack the system and disable the security systems on the Tesseract; with that and your magic, Jane can open a portal to Asgard easily and summon the troops we need. Then we fight."

"Simple enough," Loki agreed, rubbing at his eyes and nodding. "Very well, Stark. We will resolve the matter of the Son of Coul's imprisonment, and soon." He looked up at his lover.

"Leave Mjolnir with them," he said. "The Son of Coul can wield it. It would be an adequate defense, should they be ambushed."

"Truly?" Thor said, his eyebrows raising up into his hairline. "So he is worthy..."

"Why am I not surprised?" Tony said, his voice warm. "Of course he is, Thor."

"Neither of us can carry it," Natasha said. "If Phil needs it during the fight, he will have it, however. It is good to know another can wield it." She smiled a little, her lips red and warm. "There is no better man to do so."

"Agreed," Thor said. "So you two shall fetch him, and we shall find the Lady Virginia."

"Yeah, Pep's going to come home," Tony said. "Whether she likes it or not."

Bruce beamed, allowing himself for just a second to display genuine, unadulterated glee. Tony smiled, ruffling his hair as he gestured to everyone else.

"Lord Commander Foster, any objections?" He said teasingly. Jane ducked her head and glared at him.

"No, and don't call me that," she muttered. "I'll work with the Asgardians when they come. That's my turf, it seems."

"Fits you," Tony said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Go nuts, babe. Let Sif carry you two off on a white horse or whatever."

"I can and will have her smash you," Jane said with a sip of her coffee.

Tony wisely fell silent.

"So, I gotta hack a government database?" Darcy piped up. "No offense, Tony, but I don't wanna be a Hollywood movie."

"Nah, you look like a quirky rom-com heroine, don't lie," Tony said. "I'm gonna teach you how to hack the right way, kiddo. I know all about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems. Come down into the lab today, okay?"

"Fine by me," Darcy agreed with a grin. "Jane, you gonna be okay?"

"Mhm," she said. "Putting the finishing touches on everything. We'll meet back here at dinner?"

"No," Tony said. "You guys can, but I'm not leaving that lab until I have Steve back."

No one argued with him. 

Tony was the first to leave the table and go downstairs to start work; the others exchanged worried glances before going to follow after him.

...

Bruce winced as he swabbed peroxide over his arm and stuck the syringe in, filling it up with his own blood before offering the needle to Tony; he took it onehanded and stroked Bruce's hair in thanks with the other, before opening up the serum chamber and depressing the plunger enough to allow three drops of Bruce's blood to fall in each of the blue vials. 

For a second, they bubbled violently, but did not spill over; Tony watched, his face blank, as the vials re-settled themselves.

"Full power," he said to JARVIS, grunting softly as the machine began to whirr louder. He grit his teeth and shrugged off the concerned look Bruce gave him; he was going to be all right, he was going to save Steve, he was...

"Yo, old man, I'm here with the computer," Darcy said, standing at the foot of the lab steps. "Bucky not around to fuss?"

"Nah, he went to go run through some stuff with Clint and Nat. Just me and Bruce; Erik went to help Jane," Tony yawned and stretched out, popping a few joints and settling in. "You up to this?"

"I gotta be," she said. "There's no other way we're gonna save Phil."

"Aw, kiddo, we'd find a way, but this'll help a lot, I won't lie. But you'll be able to do it, so don't fuss so much and sit down so we can start working, okay?" Tony said. Darcy looked at him carefully.

"You sure you up for that, Tony?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, that thing looks like it's taking a hell of a lot out of you."

"I'll be fine," Tony said firmly, cutting her off. "Let's just get this done, we've only got today."

Darcy nodded, settling in beside him as he began to explain away the S.H.I.E.L.D. systems and how best to remotely hack them, going over the programming language with her repeatedly until he had to bribe her with chocolate to keep her from strangling him with the mouse's cord.

Bruce just watched, keeping an eye on the serum—and Tony, who was starting to look pale. Not even the kind of 'hiding out in a lab underground in Russia' pale that they'd all adopted, but...

Eventually, Tony was confident Darcy had it; he sent her off with a promise that he would be fine and he would eat dinner later, but Bruce knew that look, and it was a lie.

"You're going to kill yourself before you can even see him again," Bruce said as Tony turned back to the machine, his voice quiet and stern.

"Just another hour," Tony said, regarding the readings before him. "Just a little longer. I can hold on."

Bruce severely doubted it, but if worst came to worst—he didn't know how to take out the wires, but he knew how to handle JARVIS. He would shut down the power if things got much worse, and frankly, between Tony being angry at him and Tony dying, he would take the former.

Tony sat quietly for another hour, watching the moon rise out of the little window in the lab to the outside world; it was mostly covered by snow, but that little slice of moonlight was enough to make him smile as the minutes ticked by and his hands began to shake.

"Enough, Tony," Bruce cut in after another half hour, seeing the pale fade away to something worse, something much too close to death to make him comfortable.

"Yeah, it is," Tony agreed, to his surprise, standing up on unsteady legs and heading for the machine, pulling out wires as he went. He unlocked it and grabbed the vials, loading them up and putting them in the serum chamber with a wide grin.

 _"Steve,"_ he breathed, and it was enough to turn the machine on, the power churning wildly as Tony leaned on the metal chamber doors for support, gripping the handles with shaking hands as the Vita-Ray machines whirred with abandon and everything glowed a pale, hallowed blue.

Tony's vision began to blur as the chamber rattled and the sounds of breaking glass beat at his eardrums; a hiss of machinery and he let go of the handles of the chamber, the glow soothing the edges of his fading vision. 

When he let go, this time, there was someone to pull him back up.

The glow faded, to be replaced by a soft, warm blue of a pair of eyes Tony knew better than his own.

Steve Rogers stood among broken glass, stasis fluid, and the remnants of the serum vials, practically glowing with power and love as he held Tony in his arms, holding him tight against his chest. 

Tony had never felt safer, nor more triumphant. 

"Hi," he rasped, unsure of what else to say to the lover he never thought he'd see again.

"Hi, yourself," Steve replied, smiling broadly at the lover he had always known he would come back to.

They were quiet for a few minutes as Steve picked his way over broken glass carefully, carrying Tony over to the cot and sat down, settling Tony comfortably in as he stroked his hair, cupping his cheek.

"You're hurt," Steve said, quiet and firm. 

"I missed you so much," Tony rasped, tears in his eyes. "You were _dead_ , Steve! I did what I had to do! You would've done the same!"

"I couldn't have," Steve murmured. "I'm not half as clever as you, Tony."

"Shut up," Tony replied, clinging to him desperately, "I don't care about brains or power or smart stuff, I love you and I did what I could, and you would've done that much, so don't even start, okay?"

"Okay," Steve said, a soft chuckle punctuating his words. "You're ridiculous sometimes, have I ever told you that?"

"Could say the same for you," Tony replied. "Love you. I'm so glad you're back."

"Me too," Steve murmured. "Clearly, you need to be taken care of, and I'm just the guy for the job."

Tony looked up at him; Steve shook his head and leaned down to brush a kiss across his forehead.

"Don't even start," he said, "you spent god only knows how long taking care of me. I'm repaying the favor."

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Tony murmured. "Was just gonna say...how glad I am it's you. And...that it was always you, anyway. So...okay, Steve."

He closed his eyes and finally let his exhausted, battered body rest, a genuine undisturbed sleep for the first time in months.

Steve allowed himself one soft, agonized sob that rang with love and echoed with joy before laying Tony down on the cot and stroking his hair, pulling the blankets up before getting up to see what could be done about taking care of him.

He frowned as he looked around the lab, realizing he didn't see anything; Tony really needed something to eat, and a drink of course...

"I'll recharge the reactor," Bruce promised. "You go get him dinner, Captain. We'll fill you in on everything later."

"Okay," Steve agreed with a warm smile. "It's so good to see you safe too, Bruce."

"Everyone's safe, Captain," Bruce agreed.

 _Except Phil_ , he thought, but he wouldn't tell him that. Not yet. Let him have his homecoming first.

Steve started up the stairs as Bruce went to get a new power core. It only occurred to him as he was replacing the reactor core carefully, so as not to wake Tony, that he had never told Steve about Bucky.


	53. The Winter Soldier Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this is a bit short; I wanted it to be exclusively Steve and Bucky, so I hope it's good enough to make up for it!

Steve went upstairs and sighed with relief; the kitchen was within his gaze, so at least he wasn't going to be trying to hunt down food. 

He went into the kitchen and frowned, surveying the cabinets. Where might food be? 

He sighed and rifled as quietly as he could; he wasn't sure who was around or who might be trying to sleep. To be entirely honest, he wasn't even quite sure what time it was right now. Late, perhaps. Tony had looked tired. He'd need to remind him to sleep tonight.

It felt strange being back among the living; he didn't really want to ponder existentialist questions, largely because he'd never felt dead. Perhaps he would never really die; he'd just go to sleep every so often and wake up when he was needed.

The idea struck him as hilarious, but not the kind of funny where he knew when to laugh; he just stood there and shook, helpless with amusement.

He sighed and got back to rifling through the cabinets with a frown on his face as he pushed past boxes of granola bars and dry pasta in search of real food.

Steve was so focused on his task as he opened cabinets and rifled through them for food that he didn't notice the man sitting at the kitchen table, a coffee mug clenched in his now trembling hand. It was just as well. He might not have recognized him anyway.

He managed to make a plate for Tony and pour him a glass of water in the time it took Bucky to find his voice and whisper in a hoarse, agonized rasp, roughened by seventy years of separation and the dark veil of death, _"Steve?"_

Across time, that voice called out to him; it spoke to both the man standing in the kitchen in the middle of winter in the twenty-first century, and the little boy in 1945 that needed someone to help him up after a fight. If he couldn't recognize him by sight, he would _always_ remember that voice.

Steve didn't turn around. If he turned around, he would have to face the truth; this was too good to be true. If Tony and Bucky were with him, he was in heaven; life would not be so unflinchingly kind.

"Steve," Bucky repeated. "Steve, _please_. I need...I need to know it's you."

He turned around without another word to look at the man sitting at the kitchen table.

It was not the Bucky he had known that looked back at him; this Bucky was more haggard, more worn, an artificial arm gleaming beside his hand of flesh and blood that had taken Steve's own so many times, and let go just long enough to make this scene a reality.

Part of him hesitated. He couldn't help it; it was like instinct. This wasn't his brother. Couldn't be his brother. His eyes didn't shine anymore, and his smile was gone. 

Except his light had dimmed too, after all these years, and if Bucky had survived them same as him, then how could he expect that out of him? 

_Look deeper,_ Steve scolded himself, _that's your brother, god damn it. Look at him and let yourself know the truth._

He looked past the worn face and scarred skin, looked past the shining metal, and met his brother's eyes.

The only thing he could think to say was, "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Bucky said with a sigh. "You and Tony both with this martyr complex. I'm fine, seriously."

"Don't you goddamned lie to me, or I'll knock your teeth down your throat," Steve snapped, and it felt _good_ to be able to bicker with him, to be able to talk to him like this, to threaten him when no real harm plagued at them, and when Bucky just grinned as if daring him to do it, a bit of relief stemmed the tide of sorrow that threatened to drown him with the realization it was the same man he'd known after all. "No 'fine' man decides to spend time in Russia during the middle of winter."

"You're the one who's barefoot," Bucky said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm better than I was." 

"Jesus, Bucky, what could be worse than _this?_ " Steve said, his throat sour with a question he really didn't want an answer to.

Bucky looked away and sighed, flexing his metal arm and frowning. The lines in his face looked like cracks in ice, and it made Steve shudder.

"I didn't...remember you," he admitted, shame weighing him down as he massaged his temples and shook his head. "Natasha fixed me. And...and I'm better. Not fine. Just...better."

The thought made Steve ache. But as he processed it, he wondered if it had been perhaps better that way. There was no good to come from Bucky remembering what he had lost for seventy years. It didn't matter. Nothing did. Nothing except the man sitting at the kitchen table, who had finally come to the future alongside him.

"None of that matters," Steve said, and Bucky knew he honestly meant it as he smiled. "We've got time for explanations later, maybe, but I don't need them. You're _alive."_

"And so are you," Bucky said, and his smile was fragile but fond and genuine. "It was kind of like a game of phone tag for awhile there, only with corpses instead of missed calls."

"What in god's name is phone tag?" Steve said, baffled. Bucky laughed, ruffling his hair with the mechanical arm; when Steve didn't so much as flinch, a look of relief and love crossed his face.

"See, I clearly adjusted to the future better than you," he teased. "Clint and Tony have been very helpful."

"I'm sure," Steve said, his voice thick with the overwhelming relief that they was the same as it always had been. The one thing that hadn't changed; Bucky loved him, Bucky was his brother, and Bucky was alive.

There was a beat while he regarded this fact, turned it over in his head and let it settle into his mind and heart, letting him know it was true. Bucky was alive, Tony was safe, and Steve was here with the both of them. 

He flung his arms around the other man, hugged him tight, buried his face into his shoulder, and, with the weight of time on his back, began to sob.

Bucky just ruffled his hair again and sighed, a look of love and amusement wearing down the rough look his features had hardened into, making him look for all the world like the man Steve had known as he sobbed despondently on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Steve, just relax," he said. "It's okay. It's all gonna be okay."

For the first time in a long time, Steve believed someone when they told him that.


	54. Like a Clearance Sale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, the makeup for like 300k of a cocktease. I forgot this was that chapter, but enjoy. uwu

The flood of relief threatened to drown Steve that night; Thor had picked him up and swung him around, utterly delighted to have the Captain back.

"I have missed you, shieldbrother," he said, his voice warm. "And Anthony has as well."

Thor's eyes were warm with understanding as Steve smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, he has," Steve murmured. "He told me as much. Just like Loki missed you, huh, big guy?"

Loki grumbled and looked away as Thor's booming laugh rang out in the kitchen. Steve just laughed in reply and let the trickster grumble in embarrassment as Thor hugged them both tight.

Clint and Natasha both embraced him once Thor finally let him go, shaking with relief.

"You knew," Steve murmured into Natasha's ear. She sighed.

"He didn't," she replied. "He would not have been your brother. It was not worth telling you. But I went to find him when it was, Steve. And he is...better."

"Yeah, that's what he told me," Steve agreed with a resigned sigh. "Thank you, Natasha. Both of you, thank you."

"Don't mention it," Clint said. "We did what we had to do."

"I know it hurt to leave Phil, too," Steve murmured. They both flinched. Steve sighed. "He's not here. I knew something had to have gone wrong..."

"He's gone," Clint rasped, "Fury _took him,_ Fury's holding him _hostage_ , he _took him_ —"

Steve got quiet.

For a few minutes, no one else said anything. Then Steve inhaled slowly and bared his teeth.

"Well, we'll just have to take him back," he said. "Isn't that our plan?"

"With a bit more substance to it, yes," Loki agreed. "Mind you, I feel like some days you fools have no grasp of the concept."

"Don't need substance to smash through a few walls and get him back," Steve said. "But I'm sure you two already have a plan."

Clint and Natasha nodded. Steve smiled.

"Good," he said. "Then there's nothing to worry about."

Steve still looked half-wild, in the dark hollows of his eyes, but no one pushed the matter further. They all knew how much the Captain and the agent had bonded, and trying to wrest more out of him was more trouble than it was worth.

Besides, at the moment, he had about two things to worry about, and both of them were leaning on his shoulders and smiling against his skin.

Steve kissed the top of Tony's head and ruffled Bucky's hair, letting everyone fill him in on the events that had transpired while he was 'sorta corpsified,' as Darcy had put it, and did not move from his spot in between them on the couch for the hour and a half that took. They didn't so much as twitch, either.

Finally, Bruce spoke up, "Guys, if we really do plan on leaving early in the morning, we should probably get to bed now." He looked around, curious. "How are we going to leave?"

"Teleportation magic's out of the question," Loki said. "If you expect me to have any magic left for a fight or infiltration, I cannot move this entire group across Siberia and back to New York."

"I might have a solution," Jane said. "If we're not talking inter-realm travel, a bit of magic and I can have the transporter get us all to New York easily. I just need a location."

"Where's the one place they don't have guards?" Clint said. "No _way_ the tower's not up to its ass in guards, and same with Tony's mansion. Hell, even Steve's apartment...and forget the S.H.I.E.L.D. house, that thing'll be covered in bugs and cameras."

"Hm," Tony sighed and sank into thought. "Pepper's still running Stark Industries, and if we short out a few security cameras, they won't have time to notice..."

"I can arrange that," Loki agreed. "If you are all willing."

"Seems like we're out of other options, to be honest," Bruce said. "Let's have her meet us there, then?"

"Yeah, after work," Tony said. "Let's not try to put them too heavily on their guard tomorrow night of all nights, 'kay bud? Just so we can get Phil out."

"I understand," Bruce murmured, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. "I can wait."

"Believe me, I know it's hard," Tony replied, squeezing his hand in solidarity. "You're gonna be okay, though, Bruce. And so will she."

Bruce smiled, relaxing a bit at Tony's reassurance.

"We can do it," he agreed. "But...we should probably go to bed, too."

"Yeah," Tony replied. "See you all in the morning."

Steve picked him up before looking over at Bucky. He just snorted, leaning on his thighs and giving Steve an enormous, wicked grin.

"Oh, _hell_ no," he said. "I would sooner cover myself in meat and prostrate myself before mountain lions right now than get within three bedrooms of you and Stark."

Steve blushed; Bucky slapped his back and laughed.

"Go get 'im, tiger," he said. "I take it you deflowered him already, Stark?"

"Like a clearance sale at the florist's," Tony replied. "See you in the morning, Barnes."

Bucky was still laughing when Steve slammed their door shut, his face burning bright red.

Tony just grinned and pulled him down on the bed, capturing his lips in a deep, warm kiss, luxurious and soft.

"Aww, I'm sorry," he cooed, "do I need to make it up to you, babe?"

Steve growled in reply, nipping at his neck and going to the button and zipper on Tony's pants. 

"Do you know," he murmured, "how much I've _missed_ you? How much I _needed_ you?"

"Yeah, kinda," Tony said. "I was the same way, Steve. I missed you...missed you so _much_."

"All of me," Steve said, "everything I can give you? Everything that only _I_ can give you?"

"Yeah," Tony said with a broad grin. "Missed your stupid face when you sleep and your ridiculous morning breath and the way you cling, and the way you giggle when I kiss your stomach, and—"

"Not what I meant," Steve cut in with a red face, "but—yeah. I missed your gross morning breath and the way you snore and don't wake up until eleven in the morning and then hiss at me until you've had your coffee, and the way you laugh when I nip your neck—"

"We are missing the larger point here," Tony said, "for god's sake, I've missed your cock like _burning_ , Cap, can you please—can we please just—"

"Hey, I'm the one trying to get my clothes off, you know," Steve said, before descending on Tony's neck, licking and nipping at the skin until Tony waited with glorious abandon, raking his fingernails down Steve's back and crying out in utter ecstasy at the feel of his lover, warm and alive above him, his cock swelling insistently between his legs, Steve's erection brushing against his belly, enormous and eager. 

"Lemme help with that," Tony slurred, his eyes glazed with pleasure already as Steve continued to openly devour his neck, licking and sucking and biting. He was going to have an enormous hickey and he didn't care a single damn bit.

As he fumbled at Steve's clothing, ripping things and sending buttons scattering as he tried to tug Steve's t-shirt off until finally, Steve laughed, kissed his nose, and helped him take it off. Tony lapped at his nipples in thanks, nibbling and laving at the pebbled skin as Steve groaned in pleased delight, letting Tony kiss in between the muscles of his chest and continue down, kissing his stomach and nuzzling the soft hairs he found inching along the edge of Steve's hipbones, grinning against the warmth of his skin.

"Can I?" Tony asked, kissing at the waistband of his briefs. Steve smiled and stroked his hair.

"Not long," he said. "I'd like to be in you, if that's all right."

"More than all right," Tony said, quivering with anticipation. "Just let me first, I wanna—"

"Go ahead, Tony," Steve said, and that was all the encouragement Tony needed to hear before he tore at the waistband of Steve's briefs, yanked them down, and had about a second to appreciate the enormous cock standing erect before him, thick and proud and glistening, before he let himself go and took it in with one neat swallow.

It felt like Steve had never left him; like months had not passed before he had been with his lover in any way, let alone like this. Steve was _inside him_ , and Tony was dizzingly hyped up on the reality before him; Steve was with him, Steve was holding him steady, Steve's warm cock was inside him and he was holding onto Steve with shaking fingers, alive and safe and so very, very _good..._

Tony sucked in earnest, eagerly swallowing in long, languid gulps as he breathed, scrabbling for more of Steve within him in any way at all, desperate and clawing at any sanctity he could reach, any reminder that he was here and alive, safe and sound with Tony to dote on him, to be with him, to be filled by him and loved by him, and to love in kind, Steve was _alive—_

Tony felt the hand in his hair tighten and pulled away, a mouthful of pre-come glistening on his lips as he gave Steve a broad smile.

"Too close already? You're slipping," he scolded him. Steve huffed.

"No," he said. "That's not it. I just...wanted to touch you. I've missed you so much, and I just wanted to know that...that you were safe while I was gone. That...you're still here, right now. I want to feel you and know that you're alive."

Tony didn't know what to say to something like that, and so wisely, he did not. He just leaned in close and nodded against Steve's neck, letting his lover pick him up and settle him in on his lap, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead. 

For awhile, that was all Steve did; stroke his back gently and kiss his forehead, on occasion moving down to his cheeks or his lips. With anyone else, Tony probably would've gotten bored; with Steve, he simply purred, content, the fire within him burning slow and easy, still warming his whole body with arousal and need.

Eventually, Steve stripped him of his briefs and tousled his hair, giving Tony a loving smile before planting a kiss lightly on his Adam's apple.

"Mine," Steve said, cupping Tony's balls in his hand as he thumbed his shaft, carefully rubbing the skin. "Mine."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, unsure of what else to say—nothing coherent seemed to be interested in issuing forth. "Yeah, yours. Please...Steve..."

His limited vocabulary already spent, Tony settled on a whimper of need and rubbing himself against Steve's strong, firm thigh; Steve chuckled and kissed his neck as he began to stroke Tony, careful and gentle.

"Do you want this that much, Tony?" Steve said, thoroughly amused as he lightly squeezed Tony's cock. "Normally you're so loud, such a pretty crier, begging for me. I'm surprised, sweetheart; shocked into silence?"

Tony gasped, shaking his head.

"Nah, I just—I need—god, I need—I miss the _feel_ of you, I don't want to have forgotten, goddamn, please don't make me beg, I just wanna be touched everywhere, all the time, just—just do anything that makes me remember you're _home,_ you're _here,_ I want you, I _want you—_ "

Tony was cut off with a deep, searing kiss that burned his lips as Steve lapped and nipped at them. He was still stroking his cock and moving his hand in effortless jerks, quick and short as Tony bucked up into his touch, eager and wanton as he rutted himself into Steve's hand.

"Beautiful," Steve said, "so beautiful, love. It's okay. I'm going to touch you absolutely everywhere and then I'm going to mark you, deep and hot and all wet inside you, okay? You're going to have every bit of me you want, Tony. I promise, I'm here."

"Good," Tony panted, a huge grin on his face, "then do something about it."

Steve smiled, amused, and kissed his forehead as he gave his cock one last, long stroke, tip to shaft as he rubbed the slit and ran precum down the length, making Tony mewl, clinging to him as Steve hefted him up effortlessly, his shorter, slighter lover suddenly scrabbling for purchase as Steve held him aloft, able to do whatever he liked while Tony hung supported on him, only able to beg in the hopes Steve would do _something_ to him.

He spread his legs wider in anticipation, allowing Steve to come closer to him, nipping at his neck before settling in and nuzzling the arc reactor. 

Tony whimpered and cooed brokenly as Steve began to kiss the arc reactor. He was gentle with his touches, so worried he would damage it in some way, his kisses quick and light as Tony moaned and laid back, letting Steve's kisses reach right into his heart.

Steve smiled, pleased, as he watched Tony relax, and pressed his tongue against the reactor, licking it a little in reward. The strangled sob that burst from Tony's throat told him he had done _something_ right, at least.

Steve began to lap shallowly at the edges of the reactor, kissing the center. Tony moaned and pleaded incoherently, gasps that might've once been Steve's name being torn from his mouth, sobbing as Steve actually sucked at the edges of the reactor, licking at the scars surrounding it. 

He ran his tongue over the edge, nuzzling, licking, playing with the rim before kissing the center, running his tongue from the center to the edge again, mouthing lightly at the edges, licking the surrounding skin and massaging the scars with the tip of his tongue.

Just as Steve felt Tony's cock, hard and dripping with pre-cum, brush against him, he pulled his mouth away from the reactor and smiled, running his thumb over the shiny wet surface. Tony wailed, unable to do much else but spasm as Steve handled the reactor with such gentle, loving care. He knew he was safe when Steve touched the reactor.

Steve kissed Tony's forehead once he pulled away before deciding to continue down Tony's body, kissing whatever he could find—anything so that his lover knew he was there for him.

Steve rubbed the insides of Tony's thighs before running his hands down his calves, kissing the balls of his feet and massaging his ankles, holding Tony up on his thighs as his big hands splayed Tony's hips open wide, so he lay reclining against Steve's broad thighs, straddling him with both his cock and tight, eager entrance entirely exposed. 

If anyone else had gotten him that vulnerable, Tony would have panicked; as it was, he groaned in pleasure and whimpered desperately for more of Steve. 

The Captain, thankfully, was more than happy to give it; he fumbled for the nightstand, rifling through it for the little bottle of lotion he knew Tony always kept on hand.

"Even in Siberia," Steve said, amused, "after dying and being revived by a god, you keep lube on you."

"Okay, shut up, I knew you'd be back, okay?" Tony said. "Damn it, I had _faith_ in you. I think that merits a good hard fuck, right?"

"Oh," Steve said, the rough rasp to his voice making Tony's cock twitch as he spoke, "you're right, it _definitely_ does. Especially for good boys who hold still and let me spread them out nicely. Are you going to be good for me, Tony?"

" _Jesus_ yes," Tony panted, spreading his legs wider, painting a picture for his lover of a desperate, unsated lover, hungry for his touch and his cock aching between his legs—which Tony would admit wasn't too hard to do, seeing as it wasn't far from the truth. "I'll be a good boy for you, I'm always good, aren't I?"

"Most of the time," Steve agreed with a smile, "but don't worry. When you're not, you learn your lesson, don't you?"

"God, yes, I do, I think, I mean, can I just—can I just have your cock, please don't be a tease anymore, okay? That'd be great, so great, I want your dick. Bad. C'mon, Cap..." Tony begged. "I'll be good, I'll be quiet..."

"Oh no," Steve said, slicking his fingers up, "you're going to be as loud as you can for me, Tony. We've had to make love in silence for too long. No more fear, no more hiding. Scream for me, Tony."

When Steve's first warm, slick finger breached his entrance and started to rub at the soft, tight muscle around and within him, Tony wondered around the waves of pleasure that drowned his mind that maybe his lover was more of a genius than he let on. Some kind of kinky mastermind or something.

Whatever the case, Tony was only too happy to obey as Steve stretched him out. His legs were spread and he quivered, the picture of eager submission—only for Steve, of course, but when Steve entered the picture, Tony was a mess of begging and pleading.

Steve hummed, content, and kissed Tony's neck, rubbing his cock against the cleft of Tony's ass. Steve was leaking already; getting wet for him, as Tony dubbed it, the serum making Steve positively gush with come. Tony certainly didn't mind, feeling his lover's warm essence dripping across his ass and into his entrance already; he could hear Steve mumbling, embarrassed, and bucked his ass back into Steve's cock.

"Stop it, I love it, you know that," Tony scolded him. "Now come in me, will you, Steve? Please?"

"Not yet," Steve rasped, "not yet. I want to make sure you're prepped—"

"God fuck damn it, I'm prepped enough! I _need you,_ Cap, I need you a _lot,_ please please please fuck me, please..." Tony begged. "I need your cock, I need you inside me, all big and hot and heavy and wet, _please_..."

Steve snarled. His blue eyes had gone bestial and his whole body was shaking and shuddering with the desire to obey Tony and sate him like he needed. That said, he held his composure long enough to prep Tony for a few minutes more before holding him up, kissing his neck, and bringing his lover down onto his cock in a single swift stroke.

The sudden sharp sensation of being filled made Tony gasp in bliss, his eyes rolling back into his head as Steve gripped his hips and switched their positions so that he could press Tony up against the pillows and seal his body against his lover's, the reactor burning against his chest as Tony's erect, warm dick rubbed against his stomach. 

"Good?" Steve said. "Are you okay? I'm not going to move if you're not."

"If you don't," Tony gasped, his hips shaking as his thighs quivered, "fucking move your goddamn hips, I will never speak to you again for as long as I live."

Steve chuckled and began to move in and out of Tony in slow, languid thrusts; he was slick and easy, the skin of his cock catching on the tightness of Tony's entrance, rasping against his skin in such a way that Steve moaned with pleasure.

"Beautiful," he whispered, "absolutely beautiful, Tony. My Tony, all mine. I've missed you so much, Tony."

"Missed you too," Tony said, giving him a grin. "Feels good to have you touching the reactor, touching me..."

"I should hope," Steve joked, kissing his forehead. "Faster?"

"Oh, god yes!" Tony enthused, bucking his hips up in reply. Steve smiled and complied, entering in and out of Tony in a series of powerful and quick thrusts, his thrusts short and sharp, like the report of a gun. 

Tony moaned and gripped at Steve's shoulders, pulling him closer, as if he could pull him right into the reactor and use him as a source of power, of life and strength and vitality.

"I'm right here, Tony," Steve promised, keeping his voice gentle as he whispered in Tony's ear. "You hear me? I'm right here. I love you, Tony. I love you so much. It's going to be all right. Whatever happens, it's going to be all right. We're together now."

"Yeah," Tony said. "I saved you, I did, finally, finally..."

"Tony, without you, I'd have been alone. I'd have never had any of this. You saved me way before all this," Steve told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you, Tony."

Tony's throat tightened as he smiled up at Steve, his heart aching as he gripped at his lover's broad, strong shoulders and reassured himself that Steve would never, ever leave.

"Yeah," he murmured, "I love you too, babe."

Their declarations done, the two of them met in the middle, hips and cock meeting as Tony's penis rubbed up against the thick muscles on Steve's stomach, fingers entwining together.

As he felt a knot in his stomach tighten, a coil intent on breaking, Steve lifted Tony up against the pillows, his hips flexing with effortless grace as he fucked Tony until Tony couldn't keep a grip on the sheets or the pillows and was forced to resort to holding onto Steve with his legs, clinging for dear life as Steve rutted him insensate, to the point he was simply an extension of Steve's body, his cock guiding all of his motions and little else.

Tony had settled on a reckless, wild chant of Steve's name, as loud as his sore throat could possibly make it; Steve smiled and kissed Tony's forehead, and whispered his name just once.

That was enough to make Tony jerk upwards and gasp in exultation, the entire world going white long enough for a new universe to be born again as he orgasmed, hot spurts of semen coating them both, creamy warmth pooling between them and dripping onto the sheets as Steve moaned, feeling Tony's release and knowing his own had to come soon, joining with his lover's.

"Mine," Steve repeated, stroking his hair and leaning down to mouth at the reactor, "mine, Tony, all mine."

"Yeah," Tony promised, "oh, god yes, yours..."

Steve nipped at the edge of the reactor just as the knot within him split and he came, spurting into Tony, wet and hot; a veritable flood of come, his face red with embarrassment as he emptied himself fully into Tony, leaving a pool between his legs and a broad grin on Tony's face.

"Fuck, I love you," Tony said. "If you're gonna be embarrassed, least you could do is c'mere and clean me up of this mess, babe."

Steve's face was bright red as he knelt down to lick Tony clean, lapping up their mingled fluids as Tony stroked his hair and grinned, delighted at the sight of him. When Steve had at least cleaned Tony up enough to be presentable, Tony pulled him into a deep, lazy kiss, their tongues meeting as their essence intermingled and blended into something warm and wonderful.

"Come here," Tony said, ruffling his hair. "It'll be all right. Things'll be better now; don't worry, Steve. We're gonna fix everything."

"In the morning," Steve reminded him gently. "Remember, we have to be up early. May I tuck you in, Tony? I've missed that."

"Yeah, sure," Tony said with a grin. "Anywhere but the wet spot."

Steve chuckled, stripping the sheets and grabbing a spare blanket, laying that down and snuggling next to Tony on top of it, holding his lover close and securing the arc reactor safe and sound, pressed against his chest, to protect Tony as he had protected him.


	55. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy. Steve/Tony/Bucky banter is the best, after all. uwu

The next morning, Bucky just patted Steve's back as he came downstairs. Steve's face flared red, but he didn't say anything either, ducking his head shyly as he started up the coffee machine.

When Tony came down a few minutes later, he and Bucky high-fived one another before sitting down, watching Steve bustle around the kitchen and fuss with breakfast.

"We'll leave when we've eaten," Steve said. "We have a bit of time on our hands due to differences in time zone, so take your time and actually eat something, please, Tony?" 

"Fine," Tony agreed, stretching out and smiling at Steve, his whole face glowing with love as he went to take Steve's hand when he came close. "Only 'cause you wore me out so much, babe."

"Tony, we're in public!" Steve protested. Tony snorted.

"Yeah, like Bucky cares," Tony said. "I'm sure he's all choked up on the inside with pride, Steve, trust me."

"Like a parent at their kid's first school play, I swear," Bucky said, grinning at Steve, a catlike grin of satisfaction that made Steve want to kick him in the shin, as he had done so often when they were kids. "I'm thinking I should take him out to celebrate. How do you feel about cheeseburgers, Steve?"

"In _Russia?_ Really? That's just... _sacrilige_. Cheeseburgers are _American_ , dammit," Tony protested. Steve sighed heavily and threw his hands up as he went to go finish preparing breakfast for the others, who were arriving in slow, steady trickles downstairs.

"God knows how I'm going to survive the both of you getting along and involved in my life," Steve said. "I don't even know how I survived _one_ of you sometimes, honestly."

"You love us," Bucky said, giving him an enormous grin. Steve turned around and smiled back, genuine and honest.

"Yeah I do," he said, "I love you a lot, so both of you better eat breakfast and drink your coffee, all right?"

"Yeah, fine," Bucky promised, getting up and squeezing his shoulder as he went to brew his coffee.

"Steve, seriously," he murmured into his ear, close enough and soft enough that Tony didn't catch his words, "I'm proud. You needed a guy like him, and he loves you more than anything. You picked a good one, bro."

"Thanks," Steve replied, a warm smile on his face. "So I have noticed."

"Those better be compliments from the gossip hens over there!" Tony said, grabbing a bagel off the counter and stuffing it in his mouth, ripping off a piece and grinning. "Bonus points if it's about what _really_ matters."

"I'm not answering that," Steve said with a huff, coming over to nuzzle Tony, their noses rubbing against each other as Tony grinned, leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek.

"Cute," he said, "ever the flower-clad virgin."

"Oh, would you _stop_ ," Steve grumbled, ruffling his hair and shoving coffee his way. Tony smiled.

"And a very good housewife," Tony added as Bucky snorted with amusement, stifling his giggles as he rifled around for breakfast.

The list of people Steve needed to kick in the shins was growing longer by the minute.

...

Bruce was the picture of anxiety at the table that morning, picking constantly away at his shirt sleeves and his collar, fiddling with his food and running a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands.

"Chill, bud," Tony said, not even looking up from his coffee. "Jane's setting up all the stuff, and we're gonna be back soon."

"I'm scared," Bruce rasped, "what do I say? _'Hi, I'm home, I'm not dead, good to see you're not either?'_ "

"Yeah," Tony said without missing a beat, "because that's both what she wants to hear and the actual truth." He paused. "And an 'I love you' somewhere in there wouldn't hurt, either. Pepper's a romantic."

"Right, right," Bruce sighed heavily, shrugging his shoulders and sipping his tea, shaking his head. "I love her, Tony. I'm just worried."

"I know," Tony said, squeezing his hand in sympathy. "I know, Bru. You've been through a lot, I get it. So has she. But she's not going to care if you stutter or miss a hug or do something stupid I'm sure you've already considered a hundred times, because you've missed each other like crazy and all she wants is for you to come home. She'll put up with a hell of a lot just so you'll come home."

"I know," Bruce murmured, "I get that much, if nothing else. I just...want to see her again, even as much as it scares me, you know?"

"I get it, bud," Tony said, his voice warm and gentle. "Really, I do. It's okay. You're gonna see her again soon. And she'll be so happy to see you." 

Bruce nodded, finishing up his tea and setting the cup down as he stood up, pushing the chair in and gesturing to the living room. 

"We should really pack," he said, "I think everyone's kind of itching to leave, especially Clint and Nat, and I'd rather we head out as soon as we can, too. There's a reason I went to Calcutta; can't stand the cold."

"Aww," Tony said, grinning as he stood up, "you could've made huge Hulk-y snowmen, Bruce, just think of that."

"Not worth it," Bruce shivered dramatically as they went into the living room to give the others a hand, "besides, the other guy would probably crush them anyway."

"True, but it'd be fun while it lasted," Tony said. "C'mon downstairs and gimme a hand with the tech, willya? We're leaving most of the machines behind, but I want all my notes and whatever the hell we can throw into a few duffel bags. Plus, we have to collect the 'bots."

Bruce nodded, following after Tony as they left the others to pack the clothes and trinkets, going to get the weapons and supplies out of the basement as quickly as possible.

...

By the time both scientists came back upstairs with all their equipment in tow, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You wheeling in behind them, they were confronted with Jane swearing at an intricate silver machine, jamming the tip of Loki's spear into the inner workings and rearranging the wires.

"So our progress goes well, then," Tony said, amused. 

"I will slug you so hard I'll knock your teeth into your lower intestine," Jane snarled. 

Tony just chuckled, coming over to help her adjust the last few wires so they could leave. When he did, he heard her sigh softly and murmur just loud enough for him to hear,

"Hey, I...I'm sorry."

Tony didn't need to ask what for or why, but he did need to clear a few things up.

"Kiddo," he said, keeping his voice just as quiet, "you watched your dad die because he overworked himself. I can't blame you for not wanting to see another man do the same, y'know?"

"I was scared for you," Jane whispered, and Tony's heart cringed with guilt, "I didn't want you to die, Tony."

"I didn't, kiddo," Tony said, his voice warm as he patted her shoulder. "Hey, I'm just fine. I wasn't going to up and die on anyone. But I get why you couldn't be there, and there's no need to apologize for giving a damn about me, right?"

"No," Jane agreed with a quick nod, her eyes bright, "no, there isn't. Thanks, Tony."

"No problem," Tony replied, still unsure what to do about the warm feeling that had crept into his heart when she had told him that. "Let's just get this fixed, okay?"

Jane nodded, and the two set out to do just that, working away determinedly at the edges of the machine until finally, a little golden light blipped into existence and Jane sighed, relieved.

"Okay, that means we're all clear," she said, standing up and stretching out. "This thing only has a radius of about eighty feet for what it'll bring in, so everyone pile the bags up high, okay?"

The next few minutes were spent scurrying about and putting everything together, placing it in a circle around the machine before everyone squeezed in around it, holding each other close as Jane sat on top of the machine, crosslegged and smiling at her success.

"Okay, Loki; let's go," she said. The god's eyes glowed a soft, shimmering gold as he nodded in agreement.

"Certainly," he said, "away we go..."

The warm golden light surrounded all of them and then winked out, just like a candle. They were gone without another word.


	56. Proud as Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Clint, and Nat have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, slowly spiraling down to the conclusion. Slowly. uwu  
> I wanted to put Rhodey in the big fight but honestly, he's not going to be able to act against a government agency without getting court martialed to fuck and back, and also, it would feel weird to abruptly have him in. So...  
> Hope you enjoy! uwu

When Jane awoke, opening her eyes, she heard Tony crowing in satisfied delight, sitting atop a desk and hugging a sheaf of papers to his chest.

"I never thought I'd be excited to see my paperwork, but holy _shit,_ talk about a first time for everything!" He said, beaming. "We did it! We're home! And it's above freezing temperature!"

Steve chuckled, kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair as Tony hugged him tight, kissing him back as everyone else made their way through the room, trying to find a place to sit.

"One moment," Loki said, his hands glowing blue. They heard a series of soft pops after he spoke, like fuses blowing in an orchestra of failed wires. 

"That would be the security cameras," Loki said, " _such_ an unfortunate thing, considering Mr. Stark is gone and cannot be bothered to fix them."

"Damn right," Tony said, grinning. "We'll be fine, really. I'm gonna call my team, let 'em know we're stateside; everyone's off for the day 'cause it's Sunday, so you can all go wander around and find someplace to relax. If you want to go out, though, let me know and take someone else with you, okay?"

"Okay," Clint agreed, "but what about Phil and the Tesseract—"

"We're going to have Pepper come here after work," Tony said, and Bruce's heart began to thud insistently against his chest, nervous, "and then we're going to eat some dinner. That should give us enough time between when all the agents leave and when the base is mostly abandoned. You and Nat and Bucky are going in again; Darcy and I are going to work at fiddling with just the Tesseract security for now, since we don't want to do a full system shutdown and make them panic before we're ready. Okay?"

"Okay," Clint said, "solid plan. I guess."

"You just want it done quick," Tony chastised him. "Patience, young padawan. You're a sniper. You know what the job means sometimes. And so does Phil."

Clint flinched, but he knew Tony was right. He just sighed and shook his head, murmuring, "I'm gonna go up top, see what's up on the skyline. It's safe to go up there?"

"There's a balcony, yeah," Tony said. "Not the best perch you've had, but you can get up there. Just be careful, Clint; you don't want to be spotted. You're one of the lucky few of us that has to keep being dead for awhile."

"Yeah, I get you," Clint said with a sigh. "Hey, Nat, Bucky, wanna come up?"

Natasha blinked, surprised; even for her and Phil, to be invited into Clint's nest was a rare thing. Bucky took her surprise and understood it enough to know what kind of privilege he had been granted, so he nodded when she did and followed out after the sniper once he left the room.

"He'll be fine," Tony said, answering everyone's unspoken worry, "he's just relaxing before an op, I've seen him do it at the tower. Darce, I need you over here and working; we have to fiddle with the Tesseract's security before the three of them go in. Bru, Steve, you two know this place the best—show everyone around, willya? There's some stuff on the fiftieth floor Jane would like, and the Physics and Engineering department's on forty, Erik."

Tony had slipped back into the comfortable role of Tony Stark, part-time CEO, and they all knew it; Steve kissed his forehead, humoring him, and beckoned to the others, who followed after him and Bruce as Tony started setting up his laptops, calling for JARVIS as he and Darcy settled in to work.

...

Clint perched up on the balcony and looked over the skyline of New York. It wasn't his favorite; he loved the way Paris looked at sunset, or watching over Venice when the moon was out and all the canals glimmered beneath its silvery light. But it was high up on his list, he admitted, because of the way it _wasn't_ beautiful; it was stark and strong and powerful, rough and dirty as rock but as proud as a mountain. 

He surveyed it now, his eyes finding the S.H.I.E.L.D. base before he could stop himself. He heard Natasha and Bucky come up the steps behind him as he looked out at the base, thinking.

"Phil's in there," Clint murmured. "If I look hard enough, I can almost imagine I can see him."

"Tonight," Natasha promised him as she sat down beneath him, letting him have the highest perch on the balcony. "Tonight, my love, we are going to be returned to him. We have waited long enough to see him. Even your eyes might search a little longer."

Bucky sat on the other side of him, quiet and contemplative. 

"I know this isn't about Phil," he said with a heavy sigh, "but...this isn't the New York I remember. How long...has it been like this?"

"Since before I was born," Clint said in reply. "And I'm only twenty-nine, thanks, so let's not get any dinosaur jokes going."

"Clint, I would be the _biggest_ hypocrite in the world," Bucky said, amused. "But...thanks. It's good to know that this isn't...as sudden as I think Steve thinks. This was here long before either of us remember a time when it wasn't. And...in its own way, that's a kind of comfort."

Natasha reached around Clint to ruffle his hair affectionately, her fingers soft and careful as they stroked his scalp. 

"I don't know him," Bucky said, "but I'm going to help you two save him, promise. He's _yours_. That matters to me. I just...wanted you to know you've got backup. Because I know you, Natasha, and a bit of you too, Clint, and if there's anything I can tell, it's that the two of you think it's you and him against the world—even now, with this whole team, you think you're something mysterious, something dark and separate, and..."

He sighed and trailed off, gesturing at the skyline.

"That's not how it works," he said. "You're a part of this team, like it or not, and you're not as separate or mysterious as you think. The three of you aren't alone. You don't...exist by yourselves. Like how the city is still built on top of the city that came before it, you know? This wouldn't exist without what supports it...what I remember about it. Same with you two and him. Don't isolate yourselves. No point in that."

The two of them were quiet.

"We are killers," Natasha said, "in ways that the other Avengers are not."

"Right, because Thor's trips to the Jotunheim were just a fun family holiday and Steve didn't fight in _World-War-fucking-II_ and Tony _isn't_ a former weapons manufacturer," Bucky said, exasperated. "Jesus _Christ,_ Natasha."

"How do you know about the Jotunheim?" Clint asked, baffled. Bucky snorted.

"Schmidt was a huge fan of that shit. Plus, Thor told me," he added.

"Aah," Clint replied with a shrug, "well...y'know, it...they've all repented, redeemed, or they were a war hero or something that just...negates the blood on their hands. _Us_ , though..."

"Really? I was under the impression sacrificing yourselves for your lover's safety and spending almost six months doing everything you possibly could to save him and the rest of your friends redeems the _hell_ out of someone," Bucky said. "But I'm an ex-brainwashed assassin for the Soviets, so I could be wrong."

"That is _not_ who you are," Natasha said sternly. "You were always Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commando, the hero."

"Yeah, and you're the Black Widow, hero of the Avengers," Bucky reminded her. "I started out good and had to fix myself up again, babe. You didn't even have a foundation to go on, and you still found solid ground, the both of you. Don't you think that's worth letting yourself be accepted as part of this? Don't you think _he's_ worth that too?"

Clint and Natasha were quiet, the two of them observing the skyline as Bucky sighed.

"When you go get him out tonight," Bucky said, "you're still a part of a team. You're going to have backup and support if things go wrong. You're not alone anymore, that's all. Just start acting like it."

They still didn't say anything, but that was fine by Bucky; he'd said all he needed to say, and he could only hope they understood.

The three of them sat up on the balcony, still and silent as statues, until the sun began to sink down towards the horizon line, weighed down by all that had transpired during the day.

...

"So, we're almost good to go?" Darcy said, keying in the last few lines of code.

"Yeah," Tony said, "almost, with a few hours to spare. I'm gonna call Pep and the boys, so you finish up and set the thing to go off around..." He paused to think, running a hand through his hair.

"The place closes at nine and everyone's usually gone by ten, so let's go with midnight," Tony said, "and have the system down until four, everyone's usually back in by five."

"Got it," Darcy agreed, keying in a few commands. "Hey, is Bruce gonna be okay?"

"He's gonna be just fine," Tony said firmly, "regardless of what he thinks. Pepper's missed him. She's not angry at him—he's just scared."

"Aah," Darcy said. "Well, so long as the big guy doesn't take it on himself to try to make him feel better, we should be okay."

"Definitely," Tony agreed. "Besides, he's better than that and he knows it. I have faith in him."

He picked up his phone and made a few calls as Darcy finished up, starting with Rhodey. He frowned, frustrated, when he got his answering machine.

"Hey, bud," Tony said, "good to know you won't take time out of your busy schedule for a dead man, I love you too. We're gonna go bust Phil out and get ourselves out of S.H.I.E.L.D., so, y'know, love you. Stay out of this, Rhodes. You're not risking your career for me, please. Love you. See you soon."

He knew he'd get an earful from Rhodey later, and so he hung up the phone smiling, imagining his friend's voice.

He tried Happy next; this time, he picked up, and the 'bots all wheeled closer to listen.

_"Boss? Hey, boss, you okay?"_

"Better than okay," Tony told him, "back in New York, Happy. I'm good, I'm good. We're gonna be meeting with Pep tonight and starting the beginning of the end of this thing. You okay?"

_"Yeah, I'm good. It's...so good to see you, boss. Missed ya."_

"Missed you too, Hap," Tony said, his voice warm. "Hey, do me a favor and go find Rhodey and skip town for awhile; I want you two the hell outta this, okay? It's not your fight and no offense, but a few years of boxing didn't prep you for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

 _"Nah, it didn't, I getcha,"_ Happy agreed. _"I can get ahold of Rhodes, yeah."_

"Good. Take care of the 'bots, okay? In case...in case something happens. Please just take care of them for me," Tony said. 

_"Of course, Tone. The 'bots are gonna be fine, and so are you. I wouldn't worry too much,"_ Happy said. _"You stay safe with the guys; I'm gonna go get Rhodey. You be careful, and call me when this is all done. We'll come back home with a few cases of beer and some barbeque and party."_

"Absolutely grand," Tony said. "Bring a lot, we'll have gods. I...I love you, Happy. Thanks for everything. You did good, okay?"

 _"So did you,"_ Happy replied. _"And that's why I'm telling you to cut the crap; you'll be fine. Don't worry about yourself. See you later, Tone."_

He hung up as Tony smiled, shaking his head. 

"Right," he murmured, "time to call Pepper."

 _"I will encrypt the message, sir; she is currently at work. I think a text might perhaps be a better idea in this situation,"_ JARVIS said. Tony nodded.

"Yeah, true," he replied, typing in what he wanted to say before JARVIS sent it off. "We'll see her soon, I can talk to her then."

 _"Indeed, sir,_ " JARVIS agreed. _"All will be well."_

Tony nodded, settling in as he helped Darcy finish up the last of their work.


	57. The Drive Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper finishes up a day at work and goes out to meet some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reunions are slowly trickling in, you see. Only two left! <3

_Banner hurt._

_No, I'm fine,_ Bruce replied internally, having given up on even regarding these conversations as strange. The other guy didn't communicate with him like this often, but it did happen, and whenever it did, he dealt with it.

_Pep scared. You scared of Pep. Why? Pep love us._

_Because...I just am_ , Bruce said, shaking his head as he sat down in the familiar Stark Industries labs and began to fiddle with some of the projects he'd had going on before they had run. _She's been through so much and...and am I worth all that fuss? Am I really something she would be happy to come home to?_

_That her choice. Not yours. She made choice. She chose you. She did good. You do good for her._

"You're being awfully supportive," Bruce remarked, continuing a complex series of equations he'd had to leave mid-line.

_Pep mine too. Pep good. Want to keep Pep. Banner being stupid. Talk sense into Banner. Now Hulk smarter._

"You are not," Bruce mumbled, but there was a smile on his face as he shook his head. Pepper had redeemed him and made him good...and even the Hulk, now. Even _he_ trusted her and liked her.

"You sure are something, Pep," Bruce murmured. "I'm so glad you're coming home."

His heart a little lighter, free of worry or concern entirely, Bruce continued his work, eager for the homecoming he knew loomed at the edge of the day.

...

Pepper got a message while she went over her files and checked it, curious; who would be texting her now that Phil was gone?

_'Jig is up. Come home, Pep. We need you. —Tony.'_

Her hand shook as it gripped the phone. 

_"The message was encrypted, madam,"_ JARVIS said, his voice soft, _"but I thought you ought to know; they are safe and sound."_

"Thanks," she murmured, her voice a soft rasp. "Thank you, JARVIS."

The next few hours of work were the longest of her life.

Still, Pepper Potts perservered, because of course she did, she was the CEO of Stark Industries and better than that, but she wouldn't deny that her hands shook when she left that night, leaving a little early to drive around town and pick up everyone's favorite takeout—stopping at Bruce's place last, her throat tight and her heart pounding so hard she winced in sympathy for her ribcage as she got back in her car and drove home.

Home loomed before her; Stark Industries' building was one thing, but the knowledge that her family was in there, waiting on her, made her realize the truth. Home, home; of course. Home was Tony and Thor and Steve and Clint and Natasha and Bruce, and everyone else she loved and needed, but Bruce, _Bruce—_

Pepper drove right through the garage and grabbed the bags of takeout, bolting towards the elevator and riding it up to Tony's office.

When it opened, she was in a familiar hallway, and for a second, the past echoed back at her; Tony had paperwork he needed to take care of, and she had things she needed to yell at him for, something stupid, insignificant...nothing like this, no, but the memory felt good as she went down the hallway and knocked on his door, like nothing was amiss.

Darcy watched as a complete change came over Tony's face; the hard lines softened and his eyes sparkled, his whole bearing lighter and more at ease as he got up off his desk and went for the door, his hands shaking as he opened it.

Pepper stood before him, a good seven or eight bags of takeout in her hands, her hair down and her eyes bright as she smiled at him.

"I'm not hugging you until I put this takeout down," she said, "because you're all going to eat dinner whether you like it or not."

Tony just smiled, cupping her cheek and shaking his hand.

"Jesus Christ, it _is_ you," he said. "I've missed you so _much._ "

"Me too, Tony," Pepper said, her voice thick and quivering with the tears that threatened to spill. "Me too."

She set down the takeout bags on the floor, carefully making sure nothing spilled out, before throwing herself into Tony's arms and bawling, clinging to him tight and letting him stroke her hair and murmur her name, kissing her forehead as she sobbed out the past few months of loneliness and loss, screaming his name and holding onto him, tethering him to the now, to the reality that he was alive and here with her.

The two of them sat down on the desk for awhile, Pepper just holding onto him while Tony kissed her cheeks and stroked her hair, loving and attentive as Pepper shook in his embrace, trying and failing to stifle her tears.

"Good thing you didn't wear eye makeup today, or you'd be a mess," Tony remarked eventually, once her sniffles died down.

Pepper punched him in the arm and Tony smiled, feeling more at home than he had all day.

"Love you too," he said. "Darcy and I are gonna get everything set up for dinner in here. You wanna go get him?"

Her heart stopped and for a second, she panicked, unsure; did she? Did she want to confront him after all this time and not be good enough, not be worth all this wait, all the effort and time—

"He's thinking the exact same thing, Pep," Tony said, "so go make sure you prove him wrong, okay?"

Pepper nodded, steeling herself. She loved him. That was enough.

"He's down in the labs," Tony said, and kissed her forehead before gesturing to the door. "Go get 'em, Pep."

Pepper nodded, smoothing down her skirt before hugging Tony one more time, setting out without another word.

Darcy went and picked up the takeout bags, helping Tony set everything up. For awhile, she was quiet. Then she smiled.

"You love her a whole lot, huh?" She said. Tony nodded without a moment's hesitation.

"She's my best friend," he murmured. "But he loves her too, and sharing is caring."

"That's the last thing I thought I'd ever hear you say," Darcy said, amused. Tony snorted.

"I'm hurt," he replied, "but the truth tends to do that. C'mon, kiddo, let's get everyone's food out."

They set out to do just that, Tony's only hope that whatever was transpiring down in the labs, it was a good thing.


	58. The First Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper meets with a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Phil next chapter! ^u^ Enjoy~!

Pepper didn't know what to do for the first time in ten years.

Her life had been simple in a complicated and frustrating way when dealing with Tony. Love, though, love was _different,_ and Bruce had always been so curious and odd, a wonderful thing—but hard to handle even when things were normal. Now...?

Still, she told herself as she stood at the lab doors, he was still Bruce. She'd waited all this time to come back to him. It was...going to be all right. 

Pepper keyed in the code for the doors and stepped through, her hands shaking as she looked around.

The scene was heartbreakingly familiar; Bruce sat at his desk, hunched over just a bit, so engrossed in his work he didn't think of his posture, his legs crossed on his chair as he stuck his tongue out, the pink tip playing at the edge of his lips as he focused. It was something Pepper had seen a thousand times and would never tire of. It was home, wrapped up in the guise of a single man.

She crossed the room, and the second her heels hit the linoleum floor rather than the carpet, the noise stopped Bruce mid-equation; she saw him tense, his eyes flying open and his shoulders hitching up as he struggled to close his mouth. 

She walked the length of the lab before coming to his desk, looking at him through the clear glass of the hanging screen.

"Hey," she whispered, "I'm home."

Her fingers were pressed against the screen, and if she was messing up any equations or graphs, Bruce didn't protest. Home was so much more than the lab. 

He pressed his fingers against hers, the briefest barrier for the last time.

"So am I," he said, before shoving the screen aside and pulling her close, urgent and passionate as he lifted her up over the desk and pulled her into a kiss, shaking with the desperate desire to embrace her. 

Pepper kissed back, holding onto him for dear life, letting him devour her entirely, leave her warm and safe inside the feel of him, his arms surrounding her and enclosing her like home. 

He ran his hand through her hair and down her back as she stroked his curls, kissing and kissing until his tongue finally slipped into her mouth and she thought she would burst, the feel of him inside her too much to take, everything falling into place so perfectly all at once.

He held her even when he had to pull away to breathe; when Pepper put his hand against his chest and heard his heart beating wildly, she looked up at him, concerned. Bruce smiled.

"He missed you too," he replied. "I wouldn't worry about him. I think he likes you."

Pepper grinned and kissed Bruce again, a simple meeting of lips to remind herself that this wasn't a dream, that this was a permanent fixture in her life again.

"Well, I like him too," Pepper said. "I'm so glad you're both home. I love you, Bruce. I love you so much."

"I...I love you too," Bruce said, blushing and grasping her hands. "I, uh...I'm glad that went as well as it did. I was worried I'd mess up."

"How? You're home," Pepper said. "You're home, and that's all I wanted. The nice kiss was just a bonus."

Bruce beamed, kissing her forehead and letting Pepper stroke his hair for a minute more as the two of them reacquainted themselves with the feel of one another.

"I got your favorite takeout," she told him. "Everyone's upstairs; why don't we go get dinner?"

"I'd love to," Bruce said. "More than anything. I'd...I'd love to have dinner with you again."

He squeezed her hand and helped her up, and from the way his fingers entwined in hers, Pepper felt like she was never going to leave his embrace again, and she was fine with that.

They walked hand in hand and side by side upstairs, until they reached Tony's office and opened the door, finally coming home together.

...

Thor embraced Pepper tight, kissing her forehead and murmuring, "It is good to see you have returned, Virginia."

"Thanks, Thor," she replied, holding onto him as tight as she could. "Good to see you too, big guy. You guys held up all right?"

"As much as we could, yes," Thor said. "It has been a trying few months, but we are all grateful to see you safe. I am glad you were not harmed, Pepper." 

Pepper smiled, holding his hand and squeezing it tight as her heart ached with the renewing delight of their returns. 

"Yeah, me too," she said, "but it's better to know you're all okay. I worried so much..."

"Worry no longer," Thor replied gently, "we are here. Hush, Pepper; all will be well."

She let him kiss her forehead and stroke her hair, holding her close before finally, Thor handed her off to Steve with a smile on his face, letting Steve hold her tight and murmur,

"Good to see you, Pep."

"Good to see you too, Steve," she whispered, a grin aching at her cheeks as she clung to his hands. "Hey, soldier. Did you do okay?"

"Better than okay," Steve said. "Tony's home and Bucky's back, and we're all together. What else could I want?"

She nodded, turning around in his arms to hug him tight and let him stroke her hair, kissing her face as she held onto him.

"We're going to be fine," Steve promised. "For now, you just eat your dinner, okay? We're going to have a busy night and a fight on our hands tomorrow."

"Yes, I know," Pepper agreed with a sigh. "I'm not scared, but...god, I can't lose all of you again."

"And you won't," Steve said, his voice gentle. "We've got backup this time. And we know what it's like to lose one another now. I don't think we'll ever let ourselves go through that again."

Pepper couldn't help but agree, but even as she picked up her plate and settled on Bruce's lap, there was some apprehension in her eyes while she ate, regarding everyone else.  
Clint, Natasha, and Bucky slunk in later, their eyes glimmering like dull panthers as their limbs flexed and stretched, on the hunt as they held themselves together with the barest strings of sanity. 

"He missed you," was all Pepper could say, her voice hoarse. "He never stopped hoping you'd come home. He'll...he'll be so glad to see you."

They nodded silently, unsure of what else to say. Bucky sauntered over to her with a smile, kissing her hand.

"Don't worry 'bout them, they're good at this sort of thing," he said dismissively. "You've done enough worrying on our behalf, if the others tell me right."

"They do," she sighed. "You must be the illustrious Bucky Barnes. It's a pleasure."

"And you are more than certainly the famous, firey Pepper Potts," he replied. "The pleasure's double, dame."

Bruce gave Bucky a look and he threw his hands up in surrender, bowing and grinning. "Relax, Bruce, I'm not out to steal your girl. She's much too happy with you, don't you see that?"

Bruce relaxed, tilting his head and looking down at Pepper, who had tilted her head up to face him with a wan, sweet smile on her lips. It melted away the last of his worries and his insecurity; Bucky could see them trailing away, like melted snow running down into the soil, and smiled with triumph as he took his place beside Steve and Tony.

"Yes," he murmured. "I'm glad she is."

Pepper kissed him then, to much wolf-whistling from the assembled gallery. Bruce threw a fortune cookie at Clint's head and continued to embrace her regardless.

The room was warm and the conversation flowed freely, the whole group together and content as they ate dinner and talked. No one brought up the mission that had Clint's quiver on his back and his bow in his lap, nor mentioned Natasha's stingers around her wrists while she ate, the gun at her hip going ignored as well. 

Eventually, however, the food was gone, the plates cleared and the boxes trashed; Pepper looked around at all of them and knew, seeing the pain and loss reflected in their eyes, that it shone bright in her own.

"Phil needs us," Clint finally said. "We can't wait any longer."

"And we won't," Natasha said, looking up at the clock. "The stroke of midnight. There is no better time to fetch him." 

"Of course," Pepper agreed. "Natasha, be careful."

The other woman regarded her with warm fondness for a minute; Pepper hugged her before letting her go with a nod, sending her off with the best blessings she could muster.

"I will," she promised. "I will keep the boys safe. All of them. You do the same here, Pepper."

Pepper nodded, letting Natasha take Clint and Bucky and leave the room without a word. The others raised their weapons to salute them as they left; no one feared, that was true, for they trusted Clint and Natasha's skills, but there was a dull, grey sort of panic that lurked about the room like an ominously hovering raincloud as all of them went to sit back down.

"Should we not go with them?" Volstagg suggested. "The Son of Coul is worthy; it is because of us that he was captured, and it should be us that have a hand in rescuing him as well!"

"I know, Volstagg, but..." Pepper sighed. "I know Natasha. She has enough regrets in her life. Being forced to leave him is one. I'd rather that not being the one to rescue him not become another. For her sake."

The warriors sighed, morose. Volstagg lifted up his glass, solemn.

"Very well," he agreed, "then we shall merely repay them tenfold when we fight on the morrow."

"So...it'll be tomorrow?" Pepper said. "For real?"

"We will see what the Son of Coul has to say about the current state of affairs in S.H.I.E.L.D., and then we shall go from there," Volstagg said. "We must take care, but I have full faith in both the company we have assembled here, and Lord Commander Foster's attempt at repairing the Bifrost. All of Asgard will stand with us."

"Oh, congratulations, Jane," Pepper said with a little grin. Jane ducked her head and blushed.

"Thor said it was my title, and now they'll never stop," she mumbled. 

"It suits you," Sif said. "I am honored to serve with you."

Jane's face just got redder. Pepper simply hummed, interested; she'd ask Tony for the details later. Right now, she had a lovelife of her own to handle. 

"Bruce, honey," she said, "would you mind going for a walk?"

Bruce fidgeted for a second, nervous; Tony rolled his eyes and gave him a look.

"Bud, we've got one more day here, tops," he said. "Just go. You don't need to hide anymore."

"Okay," Bruce agreed, taking Pepper's hand; he didn't need much encouragement after that, leading her out with an eager smile. Pepper squeezed his hand in reply and let him lead her downstairs and out the door as well, the two of them greeting the night together.


	59. Unite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The golden trio comes together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the moment you've all been waiting for!

One of the things Bucky loved about Natasha was that when a mission was personal, it did not scatter her focus to the wind like ashes; if anything, it focused it _more_ , made her the sharp point of a knife, something on-point and on-target. When something was personal, the Widow made it her business to see to it. And she was very, _very_ good at her business.

The trio stood on a rooftop just outside of base and considered their next move.

"He'll be down beneath the labs," Natasha said, "so we shall have to go deeper than before. We have two options. Get past the security guards that remain here all night in the main entrance, or sneak through the ground floor and make our way into the lab and basement complex from there."

"Ground floor," Clint said, taking a closer look. "No one's down there, and from this angle I can definitely short out the security systems with an arrow or two. The guards won't notice from their posts outside, and we can scale the fences in the back easy."

"You'd think," Bucky said, "that they would try to be more secretive or well-guarded on a public base in New York."

"They have to pretend they are a legitimate government institution, Bucky," Natasha said. "This is not the KGB. They must look respectable, not like terrorists. Besides, anyone who attempted to sneak in would have to contend with the actual agents. That is danger enough, Fury thinks. It certainly does seem to be an effective deterrent, seeing as we are the only ones to ever break in successfully."

"So, an effective deterrent for anyone but us," Clint amended, smiling and notching an arrow into his bow. "Both of you hold still."

They stilled to allow him focus, watching silently as his arrow split the night—and, once it landed, the fuse-box split neatly in two as well. 

"There we go," Clint said, satisfied. "One more for the cameras, they run on a separate fuse..."

He fired another arrow and stretched out, grinning, as he watched the sparks fly from the separate fuse box. 

"Well, then?" He said, turning around to regard the other two. "Bucky's got a cosmic world-warper to steal, and we've got a lover to save."

The two of them nodded, slipping down off the balcony and away into the night, moving across the streets of New York like wolves, a unified pack on the hunt towards the building that loomed in the distance.

...

Coulson leaned against the wall and berated himself for what must have been the millionth time that week.

How could he have been so _stupid?_ Should've listened to Pepper. Damn it, damn it, should've watched himself better, should have noticed the signs. He had let Fury play him. He had gotten complacent; he had thought Fury had taken from him all that there was left to take, stripping him of his power and leaving him as remembrance, a reminder.

Evidently, his dignity would beg to differ.

Coulson would have laughed, dark and humorless as it might have ended up being, if not for the reminder of his failure, hanging like a millstone around his neck. He had _failed._

He had been the one in charge of saving all of them, and he had _failed_. He had failed Pepper, he had failed _Clint_ , he had failed _Natasha_ , and now he had put the whole team in danger. 

He was supposed to be worthy, he thought as he looked up at the ceiling and tried to see the lightning in it, but he figured that time was well and gone. It had to be. No worthy man would be sitting here like this.

He only hoped that the others would be enough to save Clint and Natasha. That the Captain might not think too poorly of him for dying alone down here.

Coulson knew he would die; the others would come to save him, and once they had made themselves vulnerable, allowed themselves to come out in the open, Fury would shoot them first. If Coulson was lucky, he would go next and get to lie beside their corpses, just for a little while.

He accepted his own death; he was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and death was something he had made his peace with a long time ago. But the others. His teammates, his friends, his _family._ They were the ones who would die choking on their own blood, on his betrayal of all the strength they stood for. And he hated himself for it.

Coulson's shoulders went slack and he tilted his head back, searching for something, _anything_ in the blank white canvas that made up his prison. He felt a surge of agonizing giddiness, a painful rush of realization that he would have to fill something in between those white spaces or go completely and unutterably mad.

Before he could contemplate too long on what lurked between the white, the shadows crept in, and Coulson had never been happier.

It was just a glance; his darlings were much too good to allow much more. But the glance had given him hope, and filled him with the shadows, with the red of his darlings, with their desire, their _vengeance;_ for his sake, they came to avenge, and guilt-ridden as he might have been, he had never been more grateful. 

He stood and adjusted his suit and tie as best as he could, given the givens; there was no excuse for a rumpled suit, and he knew the trust his lovers put in his ability to always present his best when it came to his suits. They were part of his uniform as much as Natasha's leather was part of hers, and Clint's gloves were part of his own. 

He waited. He had spent plenty of time waiting for them already; he would not begrudge them a few more minutes. 

...

Clint and Natasha swallowed, apprehensive, as they went through the dark labs hand in hand. They were paranoid; sensibly so, given it was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s underground base that they snuck through, but there was an underlying fear that they both knew was patently ridiculous and yet worried about anyway.

Coulson. They shaped their lives around him more than they thought even he understood; how could anyone understand such an internal, singleminded monument to devotion and obedience? 

In their hearts, they were subservient to him and him alone; it was simply that the skins they wore were of a tiger and a hunter, covered in red, and so no one had yet to notice. 

They knew what lurked beneath the skins, however, and so they understood. They had _left him_ , they had allowed him to _suffer_ , and the thought of _failing him_ , of _disappointing him,_ made both Clint and Natasha cringe, fearful.

Still, they had a job to do, and so they did it; the two of them made their way through the labs and into the basements. They made their way around the hallways for a time, frustrated by the labyrinthine nightmare that still yielded no results. 

Eventually, they came to a hallway that lacked doors in its entirety, and Clint, completely fed up with the process, slammed his fist into the nearest wall.

"Son of a _bitch,_ where is he?! Phil? _Phil!"_ Clint roared. "How the _fuck_ have we made our way through every fucking hallway here and haven't found him yet? I know this place like the back of my fucking _hand!_ I mean, come _on!_ And—and who the _fuck_ builds a hallway without fucking _doors,_ anyway?"

"No one," Natasha said, looking around in wide-eyed wonder, "for they have not."

Clint looked around to see that the doors were all standing out, steel-grey against the stark white of the hallway itself. When he looked back at his fist, he realized he had punched out whatever device had kept the doors hidden, watching it spark and fizzle beneath his fist.

"I am on a _roll_ with this tech-destroying thing tonight," Clint announced, content. "I should've gotten pictures for Tony. I bet we could've made him cry."

Natasha snorted, letting him remove his hand as the two of them made their way down the hallway, their hearts thudding and their bodies hot with anticipation as they continued to open doors, knowing eventually, Coulson was going to be waiting for them behind one.

He wasn't.

Coulson pushed down the door to his prison and sighed, relieved. Thankfully, training had not failed him after his time in captivity, and never let it be said that Agent Coulson did not know how to kick a damn door down.

The door fell, after which there was a breathtaking silence.

Coulson looked at Clint and Natasha. Clint and Natasha looked at him.

In his eyes, they saw all the regret; the sorrow at his failure, the inability to protect that ate away at the core of him, guardian angel that he was, and an agonizing, gut-wrenching sense of loss that stemmed from them and them alone. 

In his eyes, he told them he had missed them. Even if his lips told them he forgave, that would not erase the hurt, the separation; merely heal it, which, knowing the three of them, was the best that they could hope for.

And yet, he wore his suit and tie, neatly pressed and shirt tucked in, shoes gleaming and collar starched. That said he was there for them. That said he was home. That said he was still Coulson, despite what they had put him through.

Coulson saw that recognition in their eyes; he saw their regret at leaving, the sorrow at their failure to protect _him_ , the ache of knowing they had lied to him eating away at their center, for their center lay within him, and they had taken the screws to it themselves. 

They had missed him. In their eyes, they told him. Even if his lips forgave, it would not erase their regret, nor the pain they had borne from being separated from him. It might merely heal it; which, knowing the two of them, Coulson figured they might not allow.

And yet, they still came to him, bristling with weapons and a desire to avenge at the forefront of their thoughts, yet so vulnerable, so open and raw.

That said they were home. That said he was still needed, despite having failed. That said he had a second chance.

Coulson would make the most of it.

He beckoned the two of them close wordlessly, as if he feared startling them out of this dream they inhabited. It was a dream he had forged often within his mind, that they returned to him safe and sound. They obeyed him, ever-obedient, and came into his arms.

No, they would not believe whatever fell from his lips, kind though it may be. But his hands...his hands were more careful than that.

Coulson cupped their cheeks and traced the skin beneath his thumbs, promising himself with a sweep of warm, calloused skin across their faces, pale with winter but cheeks flushed with homecoming, that he was not leaving. 

When he pressed his hands to theirs and felt their pulses beating in unison beneath his fingertips, he told himself that they were alive, and through his own beating blood, promised them the same.

When he took their hands and entwined them, before encircling them with his own, he promised them unity, sanctuary, family; he promised them home, like he had given before, and would always provide. He kissed their entwined fingertips, his lips shaking as he felt their warmth vibrant and alive beneath his own.

When he pulled away, he pulled them into a hug, and didn't let go. It was the longest hug he could remember either giving or having received; never had he been so vulnerable for so long, nor had he ever shielded someone with his own body for so long. The duality of it appealed to him; from the way they embraced him back, he assumed they understood and appreciated it as well.

When they finally looked into each others' eyes again, after god only knew how many minutes of simply standing there and re-acquainting each other with the feel of one another, Coulson's resolve gave out, and with a simple murmured whisper of _"Darlings,_ " he was kissing them both until his lips ached.

They held him close and kissed back, bruising apologies into his swollen lips, digging them into his skin with the fingers that clung to him close, close enough to delve deep into the heart of him. It felt like home, to have them buried inside him, their blood part of his, their lives part of his.

Coulson finally pulled away and met their eyes. When they shone, it was with no regret; whatever fears they had held about homecoming had disappeared with no more than a word, and for that, he was grateful.

"Welcome home," he whispered. "I'm sorry we met again like this."

"We are home," Natasha told him. "We care not how we came here, or where we arrived. All that matters is we are with you. And that you are _safe._ "

"I am," Coulson agreed, "thanks to the two of you. I...I'm so proud."

They beamed, all fears of rejection forgotten. Coulson winced.

"Can you forgive me? For allowing myself to be trapped like this, to become a part of the game Fury played...surely you two deserve better," Coulson apologized. Natasha huffed, squeezing his hand and kissing it.

"Do not think we were not pawns as well," she said. "He always meant for us to run. The Avengers were not meant to survive. We were Phase 1, and he was more than happy to move on to Phase 2. If you were manipulated, my love, so were we; how could we _not_ have been used by the man who ran our lives?"

"No more," Coulson said. "I can't. I mean, even if we win tomorrow, we don't go back. And if we lose, we die free, understood?"

"Of course," Natasha said. "We die with you. After all this...if that is all we are granted, my love, it would not be so bad." 

Her eyes hardened as she kissed him again and added, "But, we have faith it will not come to that. You are worthy."

"Oh," Coulson said, the first genuine amusement he'd felt in months seeping through him like sunlight, "Loki told you about the hammer."

"Did you hit him with it? God, I hope you did," Clint said. Coulson chuckled.

"Of course I did," he said. "I'll do it again if he deserves it. God knows Thor won't."

"He's using a different hammer to hit him with now," Clint grumbled. Coulson and Natasha looked at him, baffled; Clint just shook his head. Some jokes were just better left unexplained.

"Shouldn't we go?" Coulson suggested, looking around. "No offense, darlings, but I doubt this is the safest place for all three of us to be right now."

"That's just it," Natasha said. "We are waiting on a fourth man."

"Who?" Coulson said, curious. 

"Bucky Barnes," Natasha replied.

One of the many things they loved about Coulson was the fact that, when confronted with a statement like that, his only reaction was, "Oh. I see. Well, age must be catching up with him."

"He's gotta go steal the core to all reality, but he'll be back soon," Clint said. "Oh, and he said yes about the trading cards, by the way."

"Always thinking of me, aren't you, Clint?" Coulson said with a heavy sigh, his heart weighed down with love as he looked at the two of them grinning back up at him.

"Love you," Clint said, kissing his cheek. Coulson kissed his forehead and stroked his hair.

"I know," he said, "I love you too. I love you both, and I'm so glad to be beside you again." 

He smiled at the two of them before taking a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, the night-vision kicking in as he looked around the base. "Now, if we could, let's go find ourselves the man whose rumors of demise were _greatly_ exaggerated and see what can be done about him."

They followed after him, one of their hands in each of his; just the way things should be.


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans and reunions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry, my apologies on the lateness; nana died so I had to attend the funeral and wake and it's been really draining. ^^; enjoy!

Bucky couldn't help but feel apprehensive when he grabbed the Tesseract; however, thankfully, there was no enormous amnesia kick-back this time around, and thus, as he lifted up the key to all worlds and then some in his palm, he just felt a sensation of wonderful, staggering triumph.

Bucky put the Cosmic Cube down for a second, testing the security. Nothing went off; he sighed, relieved, and grabbed it to put away, the pocket he held it in painted a soft blue as he left the room, eager to find Natasha and leave.

The group met again where they had entered by the fences; one look at the man that had joined them, and Bucky knew why his Natasha had sought him for a lover. 

"Tony was right," was all he said, "he told me you were a wolf."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, but thank you," Phil said. "Tony's trying to get into my good graces, I see."

Bucky chuckled, amused, as the man proffered his hand.

"Phil Coulson," he said. "It's a genuine honor."

"I bet," Bucky agreed. "Tony told me about the trading cards, too."

"And he's right back _out_ of my good graces," Phil replied with a sigh. "Come on, we should go; I take it we're in need of the Cube you now possess."

"Portal to the Bifrost, the usual," Bucky said with a yawn. "I'm unsurprised by anything these people throw at me at this point." 

"I know that feeling," Phil agreed. "Need a hand up?"

"I've got you," Clint and Natasha chorused, both going to grab him before Phil sighed, a smile on his face as he made his way up and over the fence effortlessly. Natasha huffed and followed suit, hefting Bucky, then Clint up, until all four of them could slip back away into the night, unimpeded by the base that had once been their strongest cage.

...

The return home was short, thankfully, but Coulson's heart was singing with delight and relief; his friends, his teammates, his family had come home to him, and they were safe. His Captain, Pepper, everyone was all right...

"They're in the office, if they haven't moved since we left," Bucky said, covering a yawn. "I'm pretty sure they planned on staying awake, anyway."

Phil nodded, making his way towards the door and pushing it open.

The reaction was as instantaneous as it was gratifying—and more than a bit painful.

Phil was tackled to the floor by Thor, Steve, Pepper, Tony, and Bruce, the combined weight of his teammates and their embraces weighing him down as he sagged against the wall, confronted by a human wave of love and relief and absolute, total joy. He was laughing even as his back ached, his bones protesting the sudden weight of a Nordic god, a super-soldier, and three full-grown adults pressing against him, grasping at him and welcoming him home in the biggest embrace Phil had ever received.

"You are _alive!_ " Thor said, delighted. "Philip, you have returned to us!"

"Yeah," Phil groaned, giving him a weak grin, "but not for much longer if you don't let up on my ribs, Thor." 

Thor embraced him once more, beaming, before pullling away enough for Phil to exhale. Before he could even find the breath to say anything, however, Tony clung to him, nuzzling into him like a child seeking his father's lap for comfort.

"I missed you," Tony said, his voice soft. "You're a pain in the ass, but I can't..."

Phil knew what he meant, and so he hugged him tight, giving him the comfort and understanding he wanted. Tony hugged him back, shaking in his embrace for awhile as Phil kissed the top of his head.

"Missed you too, Tony," Phil said, his voice gentle. "You did good. You did splendidly, in fact. I'm so proud."

"Thanks..." Tony mumbled. "You did good too. You kept Pepper safe and took care of the 'bots for me. Thanks, Phil."

"It was my honor," Phil told him, stroking his hair. "You ready to get up, Tony?"

Tony hugged him one last time and nodded, getting up and letting Bruce hug Phil tight, relieved.

"Don't blame yourself," he murmured. "Pepper says you protected her. You did all you could, and I know you, Phil, you'll never think it's enough, but...you're our handler. You handled this better than anyone else could have, I think."

"Thank you, doctor," Phil said, stroking his hair affectionately and letting the other man relax and smile in his presence—so rare, Phil knew, and something to be treasured. "I appreciate the support."

"Yeah, you did...amazingly," Bruce said. "I mean, um...I'm no good at speeches, but we know someone who is, and I think he'd like a word..."

Coulson was finally let up only to be swept into Steve's arms, the Captain hugging him until his arms shook with the force it took to hold Phil close, like the force of Steve's determination alone would keep him there.

"You're _alive_ ," Steve said at the same time as Coulson. "I missed you so much."

They broke away to smile at each other. 

"I'm so proud," Steve said. "You're the greatest hero on the team, Phil. You did so much, for so long." 

"T-thanks, Captain," Phil murmured, his eyes burning with the overwhelming desire to hold back tears. "I did...I did what I could."

"You did more than that," Steve murmured, "but that's what all the great men say, Phil. No wonder you're worthy. I already knew that."

Phil probably would have cried and ruined everything if Pepper hadn't hugged him. At that point, he could safely bury his face into her neck, reacquaint himself with the warmth and life that had kept him going all these months, and sob into her skin, letting her remind him that she was safe and he hadn't failed her, of all the vulnerable people he had needed to protect, even after his greatest failing.

"I missed you," she told him. "I love you, Phil. Don't you dare beat yourself up."

"I failed you," Phil rasped, "you needed me and I failed you."

"You did all you could," Pepper said. "And I got by on my own. So don't worry. I was just fine, Phil, and we made it out okay. In a situation like this, that's all we can ask for."

"I should've listened to you," Phil apologized. "I just got so used to the game, the constant back and forth, I didn't think..."

"Tony tells me that all the time," Pepper said, amused. "It's okay. I didn't know the extent of it either. If I had, you might've been more willing to go through with things. I understand, Phil; I'm not mad. I'm just so happy you're home."

"Yeah," Phil agreed, "we all are. And with luck, it'll stay that way."

"Forever," Steve said, and everyone found themselves nodding in agreement. "We're staying together forever, no matter what happens."

No one needed to ask him what else might happen.

With that at the forefront of their minds, however, Thor haphazarded; "Son of Coul, how goes the situation at S.H.I.E.L.D.? Should we attack on the morrow or hold our fire one more day?"

Coulson sighed, letting them bring him into the office as he sank into a seat, Clint and Natasha immediately hogging the closest space to him. He stroked their hair idly as he thought, tilting his head.

"Truth be told, I don't know what's going on right now; being in the cell didn't teach me much, if anything at all. But I think, if we're going to bring over Asgardian forces tomorrow, we're going to need at least a day to coordinate everything and bring people together," Phil said. "We're all together and that's what matters to me right now. We'll worry in the morning about everything else, but...I'd think it was best to wait."

Thor frowned, but he had never been the most patient of people anyway; still, if there was anyone's advice in battle and S.H.I.E.L.D. affairs that he respected, it was Phil's. 

"We really should wait a day," Jane piped up. "Coordination would be the best thing; we want as few fatalities on either side as possible. Remember, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren't responsible for this; the blame lies with Fury, and Fury alone."

"True," Thor said; if there was anyone else he respected on the level of Phil in terms of battle prowess, after Siberia, it would be Jane. "We will wait a day and confer with Asgard. Patience is not pleasant, but necessary."

"You're learning," Jane said, patting his shoulder. Phil chuckled, amused, as Jane turned on him and beamed. 

"Phil," she said. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Jane," he said. "Thank you for not putting any more pressure on my already beleagured back, dear."

"You're not old," Clint mumbled in protest. Coulson stroked his hair.

"I'm not, you're all heavy," he said. "I'm fine, but I could do without another dogpile."

Clint laughed and nuzzled him as Jane kissed Phil's forehead, squeezing his hand. 

"You're right," she said, "we're all home and that's what matters. But we should probably go to bed, too."

"True," Coulson agreed. "Up you go, darlings, we're going to get some sleep tonight."

"Beds down in the labs," Tony said, stretching. "Lotta night-owls that work here. We all good with that?"

Everyone else chorused agreement, and soon enough the group had moved down to the labs, curling up around each other and holding one another tightly; Clint and Natasha were the only ones allowed to cuddle next to Coulson, however, and seeing the knife not six inches from Natasha's side as she slept, no one challenged their claims.


	61. To Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is a mama's boy and Dummy gets to hold the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact; I wrote this chapter with a 101 degree fever. Do you know why I did that? Because I am insane.  
> Hope it's still good, though. :3  
> p.s. Loki is a big fat mama's boy even Tom said so. God bless.

The next morning, Tony awoke to hear a vast, warm humming; it filled him with a peace he had never known before, washing over his heart and making him smile, content, as he sat up and made his way across the lab.

"Dummy, if you could be a bit more careful, that's the door to all worlds there and I really need you to _not drop it,"_ Jane said. Dummy beeped, hanging his head. Jane sighed and patted his rod before pointing down to the transporter.

"Right in the big square, Dummy," she said. "Can you do that for me?"

"You don't wanna touch it, huh?" Tony said, making Jane jump. She shook her head and sighed.

"It's not that, I just need to run a few things while the energy gets going, so having the extra hand _should_ have been nice, but the way things are transpiring right now..." Jane huffed and smiled. "Dummy could use some lessons on marksmanship from Clint."

"He tries so hard," Tony said, and Dummy whirred in delight at his praise, setting the Cosmic Cube into the system neatly before perking up, expecting pats. Tony patted his main body and rubbed behind his claw, like he would with a dog.

"Bless you, you're like the Snow White of robots," Jane said with a yawn, keying in a few sequences of commands as Tony stretched out and went for the coffee machine nearest him; there were about seven in this lab alone.

He brewed a cup and sat beside Jane, watching her work as everyone else stirred. Tony smiled, pleased, and watched Pepper stir, kissing Bruce's forehead and stroking his hair as the other man woke up, yawning widely before nuzzling her cheek. 

Phil awoke entwined within his lovers; seeing them still asleep, he smiled indulgently and stroked their hair, awaiting for them to wake with patient, gentle hands threading through their soft locks. Natasha was the first to stir, pressing a light kiss to Phil's hand before closing her eyes again. 

Clint rolled over, landing a hand in Bucky's hair, who had slept nearby; he scratched the scalp before him affectionately and made Bucky hum, content. The sound of his brother awakening next to him woke Steve up; Tony watched him open his eyes, soft and blue and sweet, and felt a lump form in his throat, a tightening and snarling of all his heartstrings that made him open his mouth yet still fall silent when Steve approached him, sleepy but loving.

"Hey," Steve said gently as he knelt beside him, stroking his face. "How are you feeling, soldier?"

"Hey yourself," Tony replied with a yawn. "Bit sleepy, but just lemme get some coffee in my system and I'll be good as new. Jane, you all right?"

Over the top of the machine, the young astrophysicist watched Sif stir, awakening slow and easy, utterly relaxed as she stood, swaying like a willow, and crossed the lab in wide strides to eventually kneel beside her. Darcy, startled by her awakening, since it had shifted her own position and blankets, got up as well, wrapping herself in the duvet she had acquired and curling up beside Jane.

"Fine," Jane murmured, a look of love and affection clear on her face. "Nah, we're all good. Coffee, girls?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Darcy said with a yawn. "At least, 'til I remember I gotta get up to go get it."

"You'll be fine with a bit of exercise, it never killed anyone," Jane told her. "You and Sif go make a cup, it's going to be a big day."

"Oh boy, the return of the rainbow bridge," Darcy agreed, stretching out and wriggling her toes against the cold floor. "I forgot we were going to attempt inter-realm travel with a reality warping box that transcends time and relative dimensions in space this morning."

"Just go make coffee," Jane said with a laugh. "We'll be fine with that, I think. We should greet the gods caffeinated and thus, presentable."

"The only way you can ever be presentable, yeah," Darcy teased, getting up as Jane grumbled and slapped her ass, making her squeak. "Hey, see if I make you coffee, jerk!"

"Hop to it, honey, I'm rewriting the fabric of space right now," Jane said. "I love you."

"Love you too, grumpy-butt," Darcy said, kissing the top of her head and going to brew coffee. Steve just watched the proceedings quietly, nestled into Tony's arms as the engineer huffed and fiddled with his tablet, scanning the S.H.I.E.L.D. systems he and Darcy had hacked last night.

"They haven't put anything back online, but let's be honest, they're going to notice the Tesseract is gone pretty freaking fast. I'll have Loki put protection spells on the place when he wakes up, but we really shouldn't wait more than another day," Tony said. "God knows what Fury'll do without his weapons battery all gone."

"Nothing that I like or can support," Steve said with a yawn. "We'll handle it, darling, we always do."

"Course we do, we've got you," Tony told him. "You're the best, Steve. We'll do just fine when you're with us, right?"

"Right," Steve said, smiling as he cupped Tony's cheeks and kissed him, slow and sweet, before telling him, "we'll do just fine because I'll have you. Nothing makes me fight harder than seeing you beside me, Tony."

Tony smiled in return, hesitant but pleased. He let Steve stroke his hair and tend to him with careful, easy caresses of his thumbs across Tony's pale skin. Steve frowned, considering, and kissed his cheek.

"We'll go to Malibu after all this is over," Steve promised. "A nice week at the beach should get your skin back to normal."

"Yeah, a couple of months in Siberia tends to make one ridiculously pale," Tony said. "Shine a light on me, the reflection will probably blind someone." 

Steve chuckled and stroked his hair as Tony loosely entwined his fingers with Steve's own, holding his free hand close.

"Hey, that really does sound like a great idea," Tony murmured, a small smile on his face as he imagined it. "We'll need to put an addition on the house for our new family members, but I think we can afford that. We'll go to Malibu for a few weeks and tan while making love for ridiculously long amounts of time every night. Sound good, soldier?"

"Wonderful," Steve agreed, "so long as you're not thinking of tanning and making love at the same time."

"What, like some kind of animal? Nah, we'll go get our sunburn first, then rut like rabbits," Tony said with a yawn. "God only knows I deserve that after what you all put me through."

"Love you too," Darcy said, sitting down and passing around coffee as she opened her laptop. Tony smiled.

"Yeah, me too," he said. "I just need an excuse to get him on board with this whole thing."

"Hell, going to Malibu isn't enough? Damn, Steve," Darcy said with a yawn. "Y'know, we could all use a tan."

"You're all going to destroy my house," Tony said, an exaggerated sigh puncturing his gesture, "but y'know, I don't think I know how to live any other way anymore."

"You're on the same team as Thor and you poke Bruce Banner with cattle prods," Darcy said. "I'm starting to think you _want_ people to trash your shit, Tony."

"Masochism cuts deep, Darcy," Tony said with a dramatic sigh. "I think the house'll survive, though. I mean, Rhodey and I sort of trashed it awhile back and it's good as new."

"Yeah, because Pepper runs that shit," Darcy said. Tony snorted.

"Oh, she does, I'm not contesting that," he said. "But...yeah. Drinks on the beach after all this is said and done, I think. Sound good to you?"

"More than good," Darcy agreed with a smile. "Like home."

Tony didn't know the details, but he understood emotional upheaval and re-settling when he saw it. When something in her eyes seemed to go soft and content with happiness, he didn't pry, but he felt a twinge of pride at what he had created before leaning against Steve and closing his eyes, waiting for everyone else to wake up before anything else could begin.

...

"Must we wake?" Loki yawned, grumbling in annoyance at his sleep being disturbed by the sounds of the cosmos being rent in two. Thor chuckled and kissed the top of his head, letting Loki curl against him, still pouting.

"We must aid the lady Jane in her attempts to open the Bifrost," Thor said. "If we do not, then all our efforts are for nothing."

"Can effort allow me to re-orient myself for a moment?" Loki griped, stretching out like a languid cat. Thor stroked his hair and smiled, knowing exactly how to get his lover up.

"If we do not open the bridge," he said, "we will not see mother for another long time, I fear. Especially considering how much time it would take to win this fight without Asgard otherwise."

Loki huffed, mumbling, "You play dirty. I'm proud. And I really shouldn't be."

"I love you too, dear brother," Thor said, kissing his forehead. "Will you wake with me?"

"Well, I've got no choice in the matter, so it seems," Loki said with a yawn, standing up and shaking out his hair as he stretched. "At least a cup of coffee first, though. Allow me that much, _svass."_

"Of course," Thor beamed, recognizing the pet name in their oldest tongue. "I would allow you anything."

"And therein lies your biggest mistake. But, I cannot help but love you all the more for every one you make," Loki said, his voice fond as he stroked Thor's hair and helped him up. 

The two of them were the last to rise, joining the whole group that had already assembled around the transporter, Jane typing frantically away at the keys before her while the air shimmered, as if caught in the burning heat of the summer sun, waves of light distorting the space around them.

"So, no time for coffee, I take it," Loki said with a sigh. Jane shook her head.

"No, I'm not done yet, so drink up—just do it quick, I won't be much longer," Jane said, massaging at her temples. "Just a few more equations and we'll be good..."

Tony passed Loki a cup of coffee before asking, "Bud, do me a favor and throw some shields up around the place? We're pretty sure if Fury finds out someone took his favorite toy, we're going to get a whole lot of guns pointed in our face pretty soon if we're not careful."

"Agreed," Loki said, taking a long slug of the coffee before wiping his mouth. "Allow me to see what I can do."

His hands glowed blue and he spoke a few short, guttural words; a silver light jolted from his fingertips, stuttering slightly until it settled into the cracks of the floor and began to seep throughout the building. All of it glowed silver for a brief, shining second before dimming down again. Loki smiled, triumphant, and finished his coffee.

"Such a fine display of magic," Thor murmured, pride clear on his face. "I have always thought your spells beauteous, my love."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, darling," Loki purred, "but for the sake of Asgard, not in front of them."

"Yeah, full-frontal dude on dude is great, just not this early," Darcy agreed with a yawn. "Want another cup of coffee, Lokes? I'm getting up while we wait for the universe to tear itself in two."

"It would be appreciated," Loki agreed. "You are very nonchalant about all this, Lady Darcy."

"You know, after a certain point, I've just given up on being surprised," Darcy said. "If I tried, I'd exhaust my surprise glands before thirty."

"Considering the life we all have ended up leading, that is not as far-fetched a prediction as I would like," Loki said. "In any case, we ought to begin soon."

"About two more minutes," Jane said as Darcy handed Loki another cup of coffee. "You can put Mjolnir in the base and start spellcasting if you would like."

Thor nodded, placing his hammer where Jane had designed a place for the system to draw out its energy; Loki sat crosslegged on the floor and began to speak in low, lilting tones that slipped from his mouth like an avalanche and crashed on the floor like the scrape of icebergs.

Jane checked and re-checked her algorithims before smiling, content, and pressing the small silver button below the computer screen. The whole machine began to glow and rattle; Loki twitched, the magic feedback kicking his mind into overdrive, full of the threads that held the realms together. The roots of Yggdrasil pulsed with life inside his mind as he opened his mouth and spoke a single, low word.

_"Mother."_

Far above Midgard, the flowers of the world tree bloomed, and the whole of Asgard shook for one tremulous second.

Heimdall opened his eyes and watched as the Bifrost flowed back into being before him, space becoming light, forming into a solid, shining rainbow.

He heard the single call reverbrating around his chambers and shook his head, raising his sword and calling for the king. He would allow the plea that had renewed his post to remain his secret, for the sake of the young prince's pride.


	62. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga sees her sons again. Loki has daddy issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay; prepping for college swamped me. On the plus side, I have a new laptop! So that's nice. <3 And don't worry, I'll try to keep updating in college too, and if I start anything new, it might be updated slower, but I will try to keep my one WIP going. I have a lot of oneshots I haven't put up on here stored away for the occasion of college, haha.  
> Also, let's talk about how much I love the fact that mama's boy Loki is 100% canon. Let's just talk about that. In between my sobs.

Frigga knew. Even before the magic returned, she knew; a mother's love went beyond magic, and she could feel her sons returning to her deep in her bones. 

She dressed in expectation of a battle, except for one thing; Loki's furs remained slung around her shoulders as she tied up her hair and put on her boots.

She grabbed her knives and left, striding off for the stables without a word. She saddled and mounted her horse, guiding the white mare down the Bifrost, expecting to be greeted with the tattered edges of the link between worlds.

To her incredibly pleasant surprise, she was not.

The Bifrost was laid out before her, whole and gleaming once again. She smiled at the sight of it, her horse whickering in pleasure, flicking her tail as Frigga looked back to see the advancing armies, Odin at the head and coming to join her.

"They have done it," he said, his voice low with wonder. "Ah, love. Our clever sons have done it."

"I doubt they did it all on their own, but yes," Frigga agreed. "Heimdall! Does the portal possess power?"

"It does indeed, my lady," Heimdall said, his voice deep and satisfied. "I believe there is more than enough power to send our armies to Midgard."

"We shall not go all at once," Frigga said. "Give them fair warning, at least. We don't want it getting crowded."

"You would go first, madam?" Heimdall said. "I am sure they would be eager to see you."

"I would like that very much, yes," Frigga murmured. "My love, if I might?"

"Go on ahead, my dove," Odin said. "I will give you ten minutes' time to let them know they ought to relocate, and then we will commence transport."

"Very well," Frigga agreed, spurring her horse on as Heimdall raised his sword, his eyes gleaming gold as the Bifrost twinkled, as if in reply.

There was a single spark of light that shone in all the colors Asgard had to offer, and then the queen was gone.

Odin did not think of the emptiness that gnawed at him now with the loss of his wife, nor how hollow he felt without two men riding beside him into this battle. He held his head high and waited, presenting the best example possible for his troops, as a king ought to do.

...

Loki opened his eyes the second he heard the bang of something suddenly being where something hadn't before; his eyes lit up, and he stopped his incantations to cry again, _"Mother!"_

She dismounted her horse and grabbed him, yanking him into her arms and kissing his face, tears running down her cheeks as she whispered, "Loki, dear sweet Loki, you're safe..."

"Yes, mother, I'm all right, we're all right..." Loki said, burying his hands into her shirt and clinging tight to her. "It worked?"

"It did," she said. "We have a fairly large amount of people coming here, however, so I was sent ahead to suggest that this be taken outdoors."

"Right," Loki agreed. "Jane, grab ahold of the transporter if you would, I've got a way out of this."

"Brother, are you sure you can handle teleportation magic on top of this?" Thor said, stroking his hair and frowning. Loki snorted.

"Of course," he said, "I've had two cups of coffee this morning. That ought to suffice."

There was a flash of blue light before they were all gone.

When they re-orientated themselves, the whole group found themselves looking around a large clearing, lush and well-forested.

"I thought this might be the best field for them," Loki said. "Ms. Potts, Son of Coul, I think you ought to recognize this place."

"I think so," Phil murmured in agreement. "If you're ready then, Jane, I think this should give us enough room."

Jane nodded, starting the machine up again. Mjolnir began to hum as Frigga held Loki close, shaking her head.

"My love, the bridge is repaired, you need not—"

"But it is weak, mother," Loki said, his voice firm. "I have you here with me. I will not falter. Would any son think to look so foolish in front of his mother?"

Frigga's eyes filled with tears as she kissed his forehead.

"You are absolutely ridiculous," she said, her smile warm. "I love you, my son. At least allow me to sit with you. This time, I will keep vigil."

"Very well," Loki agreed, squeezing her hand as she sat down beside him. When he spoke, his words were warmer, ringing with a springlike happiness that flowered on his tongue as the spell was cast.

Back upon Asgard, Heimdall's eyes blazed and he raised his sword.

"They are ready," he said. "If you are in kind, my king, the chamber and the Bifrost are prepared for your departure."

"Very well," Odin agreed. "We will come back in victory, Heimdall. I assure you."

"I was not aware you had another option in mind, my king," Heimdall said. "Go with my blessing, regardless."

Odin gave him a worn, weary smile as the multifacted light shone around the whole platoon and they were gone.

As Heimdall looked out over the world before him, he felt terribly alone. The only hope he had was to watch as war was waged upon Midgard, and pray that the best transpired when it came to his people, to his queen and king.

...

The armies of Asgard, when summoned, created a thunderous roar that left everyone shaking; the force of a mountain came with them, the sudden being that had been thrust onto what was once empty air created a shockwave enough to knock more than a few trees right out of their roots.

Loki inhaled, slow and shaky, before finally letting his shoulders sag. Frigga was there to catch him, enfolding him in the furs around her shoulders and kissing his forehead once he was tucked away where no one would see. Loki mumbled something in vague gratitude before closing his eyes.

Frigga hugged him tight, desperate to shield him. She did not want the confrontation she knew was inevitable. Odin had arrived, and he would want his sons to ride to battle with him. She could only pray Loki would not lose his temper publicly; the loss of morale would do them no good.

She kissed his forehead once more as Thor knelt to embrace them both, kissing Frigga's forehead as he smiled, relieved to see her.

"Mother, you are well," he said. "Loki, this has not exhausted you?"

"Not severely, but a nap would be appreciated at some point during the day," Loki replied with a yawn. "How goes?"

"I have allowed Sif to introduce Lord Commander Foster to the men. Jane is taking it well. And by that, I mean I have yet to hear anything thrown in the midst of a breakdown, so we must assume the best," Thor said. Loki chuckled, sitting up.

"She will do fine," he said. "We have Barnes and the Captain for our strategists as well. I do not think she will falter."

"No, but it is amusing to watch," Thor said. "Sif looks so proud, as if the idea was her very own."

Thor and Loki both shared a grin, and Frigga hugged them fiercely, steeling herself with the feel of their strength before she got up, supporting Loki for a moment.

When Odin approached, however, she felt Loki pull away immediately; he did not seek to look vulnerable, she knew, but it ached at her to see him so tense and defensive, like a cornered animal.

"You have arrived, father," Thor said. "Welcome. It is good to see you."

"It is good to see you both," Odin replied. "You have accomplished more than most heroes in the span of but a few scant months. You ought to be proud."

"It was not us alone, father, but thank you," Thor said. "My team has helped ensure our success as much as Loki and I."

"I am certain. But then again, heroic actions are never undertaken alone," Odin said. "That is...part of the reason I am here."

Thor looked at him, confused. Odin's single eye was inscrutable as he observed both Thor and Loki. His sons, no matter how they changed or what they had done. They were always his sons, his children, his boys...

"I would not wish to ride into battle alone," Odin said. "Your mother will command the Valkyrie. I will miss her presence by my side greatly, but a king must survive such things. With my sons, however..."

He saw Loki flinch and despaired.

"I would wish for my sons to ride beside me," he said. "I brought your horses, so that you might feel more at ease with the battle. I want this battle to be undertaken together, so I may fight alongside you—and protect you, when I can."

"I would be honored, father," Thor said, his voice ringing with genuine warmth.

"I will see," Loki replied. "You'll have my answer when I've found it."

His voice was cold, a sharp snap of chill that made Odin shudder. However, he knew that even that much was more than he had expected from Loki, and so he simply sighed and nodded agreement.

"Very well," he said. "If you would go speak to your newly minted Lord Commander as well, before she loses her head, I believe Sif would thank you."

"Indeed," Thor said, his tone wry. "Come, Loki. Let us see how we can soothe the lady."

Loki nodded, following after his brother. Frigga turned to her husband and sighed, taking his hand.

"It went better than you thought it did," Frigga said gently. "Have hope, my dove. Thor is a better influence on Loki than he realizes." 

She chuckled, her tone soft and amused. "All the better for it. He would fight so hard against the change if he knew it was taking place."

"This is true," Odin agreed, "on both accounts. But...I am unsure, Frigga. Once it is decided one way or another, my heart will be at ease. For now, perched on this precipice...I fear."

"All will be well," she promised him gently. "Go see to your men. I will do what I can with the Valkyrie." 

Odin nodded, and the two parted ways after a brief kiss.


	63. Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final preparations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm sorry about the update gaps! I know it's frustrating, but I'm getting ready for college! I move in tomorrow! So, you know; it's a big deal. Sorry. It's a lot of last-minute rushing around, it usually is with my family. Enjoy!

"You're judging me," Loki said as he and Thor walked, "I know by that look."

"I am doing no such thing," Thor said, keeping his voice gentle. "I understand why you hesitate. I can never...I can never fully know what it means to have gone through what you have dealt with as well, my dove. But I know why you flinch away, and I do not fault you."

Loki was quiet. Thor simply kept pace beside him. 

"I will not beseech you to ride into battle with our father," Thor said. "You are more important to me than a moment of glory for the stories of bards and poets. But, fair Loki, I ask you to ride beside us not for _him,_ but for me."

Loki gave him a wary look. Thor beamed, warm and light, like a burst of the sun as he took Loki's hands and held them.

"I ask you to remain by our side not for our father's glory, or the sake of the battle. I wish to protect you. Lovers do that, Loki, do they not? And I have sought for thousands of years to be your lover, as you have mine. Do not let our love be cut so short by this battle, Loki. I wish for you to ride by my side, that I might do what I can to protect you," Thor said. "Please. Allow me to be your lord knight, fair Loki, as it always is in the tales."

"I spoil the image somewhat," Loki said, his voice dry. "In case you haven't noticed, I am no woman. At the moment."

Thor chuckled, stroking back his hair and tilting his chin up, giving his brother a look of amused love—the kind Loki had never thought he would receive for one of his retorts. It swept him off his feet long enough for Thor to say what he needed to say.

"You are my queen," Thor murmured, "my fair Loki love, no matter what lies between your legs. You are my gentle lover, the one I am sworn to protect, and so I will be your knight, your mighty warrior, and trust that you have my back at the same time. We are a bit more efficient than most romantic pairs in all the tales, are we not?"

"My magic is far more useful than your hammer, but yes," Loki managed to say through the quivering haze that was his current state of mind. "Yes, Thor. Your queen, your gentle love."

"I did not anticipate such confirmation of the fact, but it is appreciated," Thor said, a teasing grin on his face. Loki muttered something beneath his breath and ignored him. 

"I will be with you tomorrow," Loki promised. "Come whatever may, I will be beside you. Fret not."

"I do no such thing," Thor said. "I have the utmost faith in you, my fair Loki."

Loki cupped his cheeks and brought him in for a kiss, slow and deep and soft. Thor smiled into the kiss before cupping the back of his head, gentle and careful as he stroked Loki's hair.

"We ought to join Jane," Loki mentioned as they broke away. Thor stole a glance over at the woman, who was currently standing beside Sif and Darcy, their arms wrapped around her waist.

"We ought," Thor agreed, "but I fear we would have to come to blows over Sif for rights to the Lord Commander."

"We would," Loki said with a nod. "So, then, my dove; we've somewhere else to be, do we not?"

His hand was on Thor's hip. Thor just smiled and nodded, leaning down to capture Loki's lips in a light kiss.

"We do," he said, the two of them walking off, hand in hand, away from the others and leaving Jane where she was, allowing Sif the moment of protection she so craved. Thor could understand that impulse, that was certain.

...

Jane had tried to dress at least _somewhat_ for the part. Sif had given her combat leathers despite the fact that she wasn't going to be on the main lines, instead working with Darcy and running the communication systems so they would all know what they were doing. 

Sif insisted the men would be comforted by the sight of her dressed for battle all the same, and seeing the sea of buff, half-furred men who greeted her as she stood on the hillside, she had to agree.

"Hello," she greeted them, hesitant but choking back anything that could be construed as fear or panic. They could probably smell that, by the look of some of them. "I'm Lord Commander Foster. I was the one who led operations on Midgard before the Bifrost was repaired—and was, in fact, responsible for those repairs."

Murmurs of interest greeted her. She smiled. "It's all right. It should hold steady, thanks to my efforts and those of your king. That said, right now we have bigger things to deal with. Fury knows we have the Tesseract, and he has already, in all honesty, probably set agents out to finding our location. He will be here soon, I should think—in the morning, or even earlier, which means we need to be ready." She inhaled.

"We're going to have two divisions. One will overtake S.H.I.E.L.D.'s building; you'll be led by Phil, Son of Coul. I trust most of you have heard of him?"

Murmurs of assent. Jane smiled. "If it relaxes you at all, I'd like you to keep in mind that Mjolnir chose him as worthy. His company is in charge of one thing; destroying Phase 2. A group of superweapons meant to kill gods and force the Avengers to become brute warmongers is what we're out for, not human casualties. What happened to your king was the work of one man. We're trying to unseat him, not create another one of him."

They looked up at her, curious. Jane inhaled slowly, her hands beginning to shake. More than _anything,_ she desperately wanted to go back into her van and cry. She wanted to pretend that she was just Jane Foster, erstwhile grad student stranded among gods. She didn't know who this Lord Commander Foster was, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to _become_ her, either.

Before she could lose her composure, she felt Sif wrap an arm around her waist. From behind her, she heard approaching footsteps; then, carefully, Darcy did the same.

"Right," she said, inhaling and smiling, feeling her chest go lighter and her heart swell. "The second division is going to remain here and take on the agents sent with the Phase 2 weapons. That division will be led by the Avengers who will not infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.; that is, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Winter Soldier. That fight will be more dangerous, I admit; S.H.I.E.L.D. will bring weapons capable of killing a god, and that means I'll need any mages on hand I can possibly muster for protection spells."

The field was quiet. Jane sighed. "Like I said, this will be the more dangerous of the two missions; I don't expect as many men on this, either."

All the men looked at each other; Sif chuckled. 

"I do not think that is the quarrel, my lady," she said. "You may have more men than you think."

"Danger is nothing to an Asgardian! All the better for it, then!" The man at the head cried, raising his fist. Jane blinked, stunned; he was easily seven feet tall, a solid wall of man with a wolf pelt wrapped around his shoulders.

"That would be Tyr, god of war," Sif remarked, her voice dry. "I believe you might want _him_ to lead that division."

"Yes, of course," she said. "Tyr, assemble all your willing men and tell me who rides with you for this fight. The rest of the men will meet with the Son of Coul to discuss infiltration."

"Crawling about as spies is for the weak!" Tyr protested. "You must be _mad_ , my lady, if you think any true Asgardian warrior would do as such!"

"Well, that's what Lady Sif and the Warriors Three had to do for the past three months, and on top of that, Thor too," Darcy said, her voice dry. "If your king can do that for the good of his comrades, surely you can do the same, Lord Tyr. Think of it this way; if nobody goes to make sure S.H.I.E.L.D. can't send its soldiers, then you'll lose more of your men."

The whole battalion went quiet. Darcy held her head up and set her jaw, squaring her shoulders and looking up at Tyr.

"We're not trying to put you in danger," she said. "We're your allies. Let us help you do the best you can with this fight, not the bloodiest. Your wives won't thank you for that, huh?"

Tyr hedged, hesitant. There were murmurs of panic among the men, making him wince. Jane stepped forward while he was weakening and smiled.

"Perhaps I was not clear, gentlemen; when I say infiltration, I mean _destroying the building_."

Tyr was quiet for a second, regarding the woman before him who he dwarfed by a good two feet as if she was a dangerous wolf.

"Men! Lord Commander Foster needs the strongest among us to bring down their fortress!" He called.

The assembled group cheered, throwing their fists up and shouting with delight. The women all looked at one another, sharing a grin.

"Nice save," Darcy remarked. Jane nodded.

"I got this job for a reason," she said, satisfied. "And you, Darcy. That was beautiful."

"Political science major," Darcy said proudly. "I'm a world-class diplomat, dude."

"Indeed," Sif murmured, her tone heavy with love and pride. "That was indeed a thing of beauty, the both of you. I am...I am unsure what to say."

"So don't say anything," Jane replied. "You held me up so I could do that. I've never felt stronger with the two of you with me."

Sif beamed. Darcy just snorted.

"Cheese," she teased. Jane rolled her eyes and made a face before Darcy kissed her. After a moment's hesitation, Sif leaned down to kiss her forehead as well. 

"Thanks, ladies," Jane said. "So, uh...let's let them organize. We'll handle the battalions once they're divided up, okay?"

"Okay," Darcy agreed. "Can we go get a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," she said. "Sif, you coming?"

She looked at both her ladies, standing taller and prouder than they ever had before. The ease with which they carried the burdens on their backs and still managed to walk beside her twisted up her stomach, clenching her throat so that, for a moment, she could not speak.

"You wear the mantle well, Lord Commander," she whispered. "I am grateful for you, and my little Silvertongue as well."

"Aw, man, Loki's gonna kill me for taking that from him," Darcy said. "What about Smooth Criminal Darcy Lewis?"

"Don't make references she'll never get," Jane said. Darcy just whined.

Sif smiled; when she saw Jane relax, just enough to hold her hand, a thrill went through her. She wondered if this was what other women felt like; this giddy seizure of the heart that captivated her senses around the two of them.

"Lord Commander," Sif said, "my sweet Silvertongue. Shall we?"

"Coffee would be lovely, yes," Jane replied, squeezing her hand. Darcy took her other in her own, feeling the warm calluses beneath her hand and smiling. 

"We'll probably have to fight Tony for the machine, though," Darcy said as they all headed off to find it. Sif chuckled.

"That, my ladies, is where _I_ come in," she promised.

...

"You're not worried, are you?" Tony asked Pepper as the group sat around the fire, night falling around them like a closing curtain. She shrugged.

"I have the armor," she said. "I've wanted to fight this fight since it took you from me. Since it took _all of you_ from me. I can't be worried. I'm not scared, and I know I'm going to be okay. I'm going to be fighting with you and Bruce—what else could I want?"

"Pep, this isn't...this isn't what I wanted. Not for you, anyway," Tony murmured. "I never wanted to fight again. I never wanted a war, never wanted...I never wanted to drag anyone down to my level. I can fight this fight because I'm already halfway through it. But you, Pep—they never called _you_ the Merchant of Death, did they?"

"No, they didn't," Pepper said, her voice quiet and gentle. "But I never thought they were right to call _you_ that, either. Maybe neither of us are going onto that field to be killers, Tony, did you think about that? We're going to avenge. That's kind of right in our title."

"It...it shouldn't have been your title," Tony told her. "You're not...you're not me. You're not supposed to _be_ here. You're better than this."

"No, I'm not," Pepper said. "Because this is the best it gets. I mean it, Tony." 

She squeezed his hand and gave him a warm, encouraging smile. Tony didn't say a word.

"It's my title now, whether it should've been or not," she reminded him. "I didn't make that choice. It was put upon me. But I'm going to wear it with pride and make it work. That's what you did, Tony."

He nodded, wordless, and cupped her cheek, tilting her head up just a bit. 

"You're the best friend I could've asked for," he said. "And...and you make a great Avenger, Pep."

"Thank you," she said. "I'll leave the world-saving to you guys, though. After this, I'm back to running things around the house. Let's face it; we can't all go out and do that sort of thing. If Phil and I start, nothing that _really_ needs doing will ever get done."

"This is true," Tony agreed, "but...for tomorrow, and times like this one...I'm so glad I have the two of you to fight with us. Really, I am."

"Me too, Tony," Pepper said, kissing his forehead. "Now go pester Steve. I'm going to go be with Bruce."

"Use protection," Tony replied, standing up to go find Steve. 

When she got up, she punched him in the arm. Tony just laughed, letting her storm off to go find Bruce as he sauntered over to his lover, laying his head on his shoulder and draping his arms over his shoulders as he went over plans with Bucky. 

He didn't say anything; Steve knew his presence was what Tony wanted, the comfort of his company, and so he just smiled and let him stay, content.


	64. Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap! Settled in, so I'm gonna try to keep up! Enjoy enjoy!  
> Now, I know Odin was a shit. But Loki isn't forgiving him for his actions entirely. He can reconcile without having to forgive; Odin made mistakes. While Loki's still fucked up too, I just don't want it to come off as Odin being entirely blameless, you know?

That night, in the silence, everyone found what they needed, be it from friends or family or lovers. And that gave them the courage they needed when the dawn rose to rise and greet it like a warrior would.

"It's beautiful," Steve said as Tony held out his arms, letting the armor climb over him and settle in, the first time he had worn it in months. He looked at complete ease, peaceful despite the war they knew that would be raging around them soon enough. 

"What, this?" Tony said with a small grin. "Nah, this is nothing compared to getting to watch you suit up, Cap. You don't get to see me naked, now do you?"

Steve blushed and mumbled, "I wish."

Tony laughed, coming over to plant a light, sweet kiss on Steve's lips. The Captain held him steady, and then looked up at him.

"I love to see you suit up, you know," he said. "Make sure I get to watch you take it off tonight, too."

Tony took Steve's hand and squeezed it lightly. Even through the sheets of steel and repulsor technology, Steve imagined he could hear the pulse in Tony's hand beat.

"Hey," he said, "they took you from me once. They're not going to do it again, Steve. I promise you that."

"I won't let them," Steve rasped, his eyes suddenly stinging, growing hot. "Because you got taken from me, too. Never again. Never."

"No," Tony promised, leaning in for another kiss. "No, we're going to be just fine. Better than fine. We'll be in Malibu in another seventy-two hours, tops. I'd bet my whole fortune on it."

"Well, then I'm sold," Steve said. Tony grinned, leaning against Steve as his lover pulled on his boots and finished dressing, pulling his mask on last. He looked like the soldier

Tony had known and idolized as a boy; he looked like the Avenger Tony fought beside.

"C'mon," Steve told him, holding out his hand. "They'll be waiting on us. I'm more than ready for Malibu."

Tony nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it tight, an unspoken promise that rang steady in between the two of them as they went to join the others.

They would make it out of this alive. They would stay together. And once all of the fighting was said and done, they would go relax on some beach, somewhere.

All things considered, Tony thought, it wasn't such a bad way to live his life. At least, as long as Steve was beside him.

...

When Odin rode to join his men that morning, the sun beating hot and high overhead, he was greeted by all of Asgard's finest warriors—and, standing on the hillside, proud and fierce, resplendent in their battle armor, his sons.

They stood side by side upon their horses; Thor's golden, glossy mare, quicker of foot than any stallion. Thor was confident enough in his strength that he contented himself with a quick horse; he certainly made up for the slight size discrepancy. Loki's stallion, by contrast, made him look as broad and strong as his brother despite his own lithe form; his coat was glossy and black, sleek as a brush from which midnight ran, the darkness stark and strong as he tossed his head, as proud and showy as his master.

Odin smiled, and a single tear rolled down his cheek as Sleipnir nuzzled Loki's horse, then Thor's, in greeting. 

"It is good to see you both," he said. "My sons. It is...good to know my sons will ride with me."

"Not for long, I am afraid," Thor said gravely. "Loki remains here to put up protection spells so that the agents Fury sends might not harm either us or themselves with the weapons he has wrought from the Tesseract. Lord Commander Foster had asked the mages to remain, and I could not refuse her."

"Magic?" Odin said. "They need magic?"

He sighed and raised his head to the sun, his white hair shining in the light like a star as his shoulders slumped.

"I am not the warrior I once was, Thor," he said. "You will lead them to the halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. and claim them in the name of Asgard, as the Lord Commander asked."

He looked at Loki, quiet and contemplative.

"My magic still runs deep within me, however," he said. "Strong as ever, in fact, as I hope I have proved to you both. That means the question remains; Loki, please. Allow me to accompany you on this field and aid your magics, so that our people might remain protected."

Loki was quiet. His horse shied away from Odin, nickering softly.

"I see no other option," he finally said after a moment's pause. "You shall ride beside me, then."

"It is all I have wanted," Odin replied. "After all this time, Loki. I wished to ride beside my son in battle. To tell him yes. That I would, in fact, be with him. If only this one time."

Loki searched his face for lies and found none.

"I need to go speak with mother about the protection spells," he said abruptly, grabbing his reins as his horse bolted, streaking off like a brush of ink across canvas. 

Odin sighed; Thor put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"He gave you more than I believe even he expected," Thor said. "Fear not, father. I will go speak to him. All will be well."

"Yes, one can hope," Odin murmured. "Thor, go with our fathers and the spirits of those who fell before us. I would much rather have you residing in this 'Malibu' your odd friend Anthony Stark spoke of than the halls of Valhalla."

"As would I, father," Thor agreed with a grin. "I am not the whelp I once was. They will fight well, and so will I. I will be safe. For Loki's sake. For Asgard's sake. And for the sake of my mother and father."

Odin chuckled, nodding in agreement. "True enough. Your mother shall have your head should you come to harm. Now, see to your brother, Thor, would you?"

Thor nodded, inclining his head and grabbing his reins, spurring his horse forward and allowing her to canter off after Loki. 

Odin watched Thor leave, gleaming in the sun for as long as was possible for him to be seen, before he turned and sighed, raising his fist and roaring as he made to address his men.

...

Thor caught up with Loki easily enough, sweeping his lover into a kiss as their horses fell into step beside one another. Loki kissed back, his lips cool and yielding, letting Thor remind himself of his lover's taste one more time before they rode to battle.

"I am proud, Loki," Thor said when he pulled away. "Astounded, admittedly, but no less proud."

"It does not mean I forgive him," Loki said with a huff. "It means I am being sensible. Better to be sensible than be anything like you."

Thor just smiled, allowing Loki to think as he would. Regardless of the reasons, he was proud. 

"We will be just fine, brother," Thor said, as they overlooked the hill of soldiers before them. "All of our friends will. And then, you and I will have some well-deserved rest."

"I should hope so," Loki said. "Though I do not yearn for the heat as you all do. I believe I may have to pass on the beaches you speak so highly of."

"We will bring ice," Thor said, stroking his hair. "I assure you, all will be well from now on. You and I will remain together, and I will give you the love you have always wanted. What else could either of us ask for?"

"I am unsure," Loki admitted. "A pleasant book, perhaps."

"I shall give you a whole library," Thor promised, "but later. After we have won and we may walk away from this fight we have been dragged into."

"Fair enough," Loki agreed. "One last kiss?"

"You do not fear," Thor murmured, looking into his lover's eyes. "You are unlike a maid in this regard as well; I do not see you weep for me, my love."

"I've felt your blows more than once," Loki grumbled, giving him a look of exasperation and amusement. "I do not fear you will not return, Thor. There is no need to weep for a man I know who will return."

Thor beamed and laughed, leaning in to kiss Loki one last time. They remained where they were for as long as was possible, their lips nestled against one another, sweet and soft and easy, as if they had known one another's embrace for centuries.

When Thor pulled away, Loki was smiling. 

"I will go, Loki," Thor told him, "and I swear, I shall fight, and I shall win, all in your name." He grinned, holding out a hand. "A favor, perhaps? I would wear it proudly."

"You're impossible," Loki said, but his fingers were moving, weaving the air around him until he stopped suddenly, a ribbon appearing between his fingers that looked to be sewn of mist and spidersilk. 

"A binding of protection," Loki told him as he wrapped it around his arm. "I will not be able to bless you with spells, so this shall have to suffice."

"I will wear it for as long as I fight," Thor said, his voice warm. "I shall see you soon, then, my fair Loki?"

"Yes, Thor," Loki said, kissing his forehead. "Do me a favor and make this quick. You and I have many more interesting things to attend to."

"Aye, we do," Thor said, ruffling his hair. "Goodbye, my love. Protect those that remain. And do not neglect yourself. I will not be here to protect you."

"I shall have to remind myself of where you remain," Loki said, and their souls throbbed in communion as he smiled. "It will do. Off with you, oaf."

Thor gave him one last smile, their hands touching for a second longer before he was gone, like the flash of the sun just before it sinks beyond the horizon.

Loki watched where he had been for a minute more before sighing heavily and going to find his father to discuss the magic they would need to sustain the fight.


	65. Last Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say goodbye, everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last goodbyes before the fight scenes! Fight scenes fight scenes everybody likes fight scenes. Also the climax. ^u^

"We'll be fine," Jane promised the god standing before her. She'd never seen Sif look nervous. It wasn't a good look for her.

"She's right," Darcy piped up. "We're just sort of running things like the command central, you know? Don't worry about us, okay? We're not gonna die."

"I know," Sif murmured. "I worry still. I do not like the thought of life without you, and before battle, those are the thoughts that plague a warrior."

"Yeah, but," Darcy said, "we're the ones who should be worried about you! You're going off to go beat up bad guys and actually, you know, do something! Sif, seriously, I'm...kinda scared."

Sif shushed her, stroking her hair. "No, no. None of that. I am the greatest warrior in all Asgard; there is nothing to fear about this fight. Not on my account."

"So then don't worry about us, okay?" Darcy said. "Go do your damn job and beat up bad guys undistracted, so I'm not worried about you getting all maudlin and then getting shot."

"Darce, Asgardians are bulletproof," Jane said. Darcy rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean!" she said. "Trust us to be safe, okay? And we'll trust you."

"...All right," Sif agreed, her eyes bright. "All right, little ones. I will. I know. I..."

She didn't say it; not yet, when the glory of battle was not yet behind her, like the cape of a king. 

"I will fight well," she promised. "And I will return to you."

Jane nodded, standing on tip-toe before brushing a quick kiss against her lips. It was a peck and no more, but it had her reeling.

"A kiss for luck?" she teased. Sif's entire face was bright pink.

"I...I accept your favor gladly," she replied, her fingers on her lips. 

Darcy leaned up to do the same before settling down back on the ground, beaming. "And mine?"

"And yours, little one," she said, shaking her head and smiling. "My ladies. Stay safe."

"We will," they promised. "And you too."

Sif nodded one last time; curt and sharp, like she wanted to leave and get the fight over and done with already.

They watched her leave with a sigh, their arms entwined. 

"I don't like sending people off to fight," Darcy mumbled. "Can we never do this again?"

Jane kissed her forehead. "I know what you mean. And if we win this, we won't have to."

Darcy nodded, the two of them heading off to see what could be done about the command systems.

...

"Are you going to be able to do this?" Clint said, looking curiously at Phil as he and Natasha sat beside him, sipping coffee before the fight of their lives.

"He owes me," Coulson said. "He owes me for the both of you, and for my team, and for thnking he could beat me at my own game. Of course I can do this, Clint; I've run field missions before with you both, with much less backup. What are you worried about?"

"I don't want you to die," Clint whispered, and he sounded so young and vulnerable that Coulson couldn't help but flinch. "Please, Phil. I don't want you to die. I love you."

"Clint, darling, I'm not going anywhere. I promise you that," Coulson said, cupping his cheeks in his hands and kissing his forehead. "You're my lover. You and Natasha both. You're my darlings; how could I ever leave you? Even when I was gone, I wasn't lost forever, right?"

"Uh-huh," Clint mumbled, nuzzling into his chest. Coulson kissed the top of his head.

"And neither were you," he reminded him. "We may not be immortal gods, but we are extraordinarily lucky humans, the three of us, and that might do a better job of keeping us alive than immortality, I'll be honest."

"I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors, but, my love, I am inclined to believe you're right," Natasha murmured with a grin. "I do not fear. Clint, I will be beside you, and Coulson will be leading us. Why would I have any reason to fear? It will be just like the days of old."

"Only with a lot more burly men in furs involved, but that's irrelevant," Clint agreed, and to both of their combined relief, he was smiling again. "I love you both so much."

"Love you too," Coulson murmured. "And I love you, my Natasha. I swear to you, we'll be in California, warm and safe, before the day is done."

"Well, don't forget we gotta fly there, too," Clint teased. Coulson huffed and kissed his forehead, before giving him a soft, slow kiss on the lips, his lips wet and yielding beneath Coulson's own. 

"Shoot straight. I love you," Coulson murmured into his ear. Clint nodded as Coulson turned to Natasha, cupping her cheeks in his hands before giving her a light, sweet kiss, reverent and sweet as the last of the summer breezes. She kissed back in such a way that his whole body burned with the feel of it, and he moaned when she pulled away.

"I will never leave you again," Natasha promised. "Not for as long as I live."

Coulson just cupped her cheek and smiled.

"I know," he said. "Likewise."

That meant more to Natasha than any longwinded declaration he could have made. She held his hand once more, a last moment with which to snatch a bit of togetherness. 

Then the three of them picked up their weapons and headed to face the oncoming storm.

...

All of the Avengers met together before going their separate ways; Tony looked at Steve, who stood across from Bruce, who held Pepper's hand, her other free hand taken in Thor's. He stood watchful, mindful, beside Coulson, who held onto Clint and Natasha for the last few fleeting minutes they had. Seeing his friends together like that gave Tony the push he needed to hold Steve's hand. Steve squeezed back and smiled.

"We're going to be all right," he told them. "Fury tried to kill us before and failed. Why should it be any different now?"

The others nodded, giving their Captain a warm smile. Steve grinned in reply, and for a second, the world shifted; it was colder, but the same grins met him again, seventy years ago and on another group of good men and brave women. 

"We'll be all right," he promised them both; the ghosts of his friends and the solid, strong bodies of his team that stood before him. "We'll be all right. I love you all. Don't be afraid. I've got a better shield than him."

They all laughed; admittedly it was low and muted, but that was the most Steve had expected, given the circumstances.

He gave Tony a warm, lingering kiss before the whole group embraced, allowing themselves one last moment to remain together, safe and sound with the promise of sunshine waiting for them just over the hill.

Then they broke apart, going their separate ways to do what had to be done; still, they remained in each other's hearts, and that was what gave them the courage to separate and stay strong regardless.


	66. God Killers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torch the building and run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, guys! Not much to say at this point. <3

"I should've killed Coulson and Potts while I was at it," Fury said with a sigh, lighting a cigarette as he stood watching the street beneath him with Maria at his side. "I suppose I hoped I could make an example of them. There's no point in that when it comes back to bite you in the ass, now is there, Hill?"

"Permission to speak off the cuff, sir?" Maria said. Fury nodded.

"No, there isn't," Maria immediately said. "But remember this; they think they're better than us. They're not going to kill us. Hell, I don't think we'll have casualties at all. Not if they can help it. They're superheroes. That's how they work."

Fury nodded. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, however, they both heard the low, rushing drone of hoofbeats on cement. 

The two of them looked out to see a horde of men on horseback standing outside the base doors, their swords raised.

"That is not, however," he said with a shake of his head, "how Asgardians work."

Fury handed his cigarette to Maria.

"Sir, I haven't smoked in years," Maria said, tilting her head. 

"You always smoke before you go to war, Hill," Fury said. "Shows you're not afraid of dying."

She wasn't, she told herself as she took a long drag. It was for Victoria she feared.

"Get her a gun," Fury said. "One of the Phase 2 ones. Same to you. And I'll meet you on that battlefield, Hill."

"Agreed, sir," Maria said. "I just..." 

She paused for a second to inhale slowly, then murmured, "Cliche as it sounds, it was an honor, sir. And I don't regret following you, Director."

_Part of me regrets that you did. For your sake._

Sentiment. 

It would get him nowhere, so he replied with a quiet, "It was an honor, Commander. I'll radio you your orders once you're out on the field. Now go get your damn gun." 

Maria nodded, leaving the room as Fury sighed and grabbed his own enormous weapon, a sleek black gun that glowed a soft, cosmic blue in the light of the morning sun as he went out to kill a few gods.

...

Jane and Erik watched over Darcy's shoulder as the woman typed in code furiously, hacking the systems with lights flashing on and off around her from the various computers wired into hers. 

They had been set up in Stark Industries, someplace away from the fighting; Jane didn't like not being able to rush out and help if necessary, but truth be told, in this sort of fight, she was better here than anywhere else. And that meant being the best she could be here.

She watched her own surveillance systems as she held up her phone, connected to Coulson's communicator.

"Okay, I really just need the whole damn building trashed," she said. "Make sure they're not going to be able to set themselves up again for a long, long time."

_"There are certain files that only S.H.I.E.L.D. has a copy of. I need to make sure those remain, Commander Foster."_

"Don't _you_ start calling me that, and fine; I think you should probably sent Clint and Natasha after those, though, considering Tyr is dead-set on destroying as much as possible," she said. 

_"I will attempt to take all that they have on their computers and incorporate them into my own databanks,"_ JARVIS spoke up. " _In case we should ever need the knowledge they admittedly possess."_

"Right, thanks JARV. Let Darcy help you with that one," Jane said. "Phil? What's going on at the hill?"

_"Far as I know, they're all fine. Our strategy is largely one of disarment, especially over there, considering that's where Fury sent the concentration of Phase 2 weapons. Loki and the other mages are holding up fine, and we've managed to destroy a few of the guns. I'll let you know if anything major comes up."_

"Right, thanks. Send Clint and Nat after what's necessary while JARVIS downloads the files. And make sure you're careful. Casualties will make us the bad guys, like Steve said," Jane told him. 

_"Tyr knows, but he's not happy. He'll have to make do with destroying the building, I suppose. I'll contact you when there's change, Jane."_

"Thanks," Jane said. "Be careful."

_"You too."_

She hung up, looking over her shoulder at Darcy, who was now typing furiously away with JARVIS reciting instructions in her ear.

"Going well?" She asked. Darcy just nodded, continuing to type.

"My fingers are gonna be so cramped when this is all over," she said with a heavy sigh, continuing her work regardless.

"I'll massage them for you on the beach, dear. Let's just worry about that later," Jane said. Darcy huffed.

"Yeah, I know, I know. Going to be careful, I promise..." she said, keying in lines of code as Jane sighed and settled in, keeping an eye on the proceedings.

...

Tony sighed and grabbed another one of the Phase 2 guns, blasting it open with a repulsor beam before throwing the smoking remains through a tree.

 _"Sir, I advise you to be a bit more careful. We have no idea of the sort of cosmic feedback we could create,_ " JARVIS reminded him.

"That's what the shields are for, JARV. I'm not concerned. My bigger concern is keeping these guns away from my friends; that kind of cosmic feedback seems a bit more...dangerous. You know what I mean?"

_"I do, sir. Still, caution is advised."_

"Okay, I'll watch it. Where're the others?" Tony asked, ducking a blast of glowing blue before sighing and yanking the gun out of the agent's hands, giving him a light shove and sending him down the hill. 

_"Steven is safe, if that is your concern. Bucky has managed to intercept a large number of the Phase 2 weapons with the sniper rifle he had converted from our own stolen weapon. Bruce and Pepper are, well, enjoying themselves demolishing the base with Coulson and Thor. Clint and Natasha are deep enough into the bowels of the base that I cannot trace them, sir."_

"Okay. Great. Wait—when did Bucky get the sniper rifle?" Tony said, baffled.

_"He had some assistance from Selvig and a few of your weapons blueprints. He's rather smart, sir; he constructed it mostly on his own while you were attempting to revive Steven. We ought to hire him."_

"Yeah, I definitely need him on the payroll," Tony said. "Is he an Avenger now too? You included him in the headcount."

_"Would you like to explain to Steven that he isn't?"_

Tony paused.

_"The couch is quite comfortable, sir. Dummy can supply blankets."_

"No," Tony said. "No, I think we can definitely hold off on that."

_"As you say, sir. I will add his files to the Avengers database after I have downloaded the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems."_

"Oh, well aren't you a busy little bee," Tony said, soaring up and trying to get a good look at the battlescene.

_"Indeed, sir. And there is another shipment of the weapons coming in at ten o'clock. If you would."_

Tony soared off to go deal with that. If JARVIS said the others were fine, he trusted him. It was just a matter of destroying as many of the damn weapons as was possible.

...

Pepper had never been so happy as when Bruce kissed her for the first time, but blowing up her office was a close second.

The Hulk grunted, amused, beside her; Pepper just grinned from within the suit, shaking her head and sighing, content. Tomorrow was for healing, for rescue; today, she had gotten over her discomfort with weapons and used them on the battlefield. Just for today. Just as long as she was an Avenger.

She raised her hand and fired off another repulsor ray towards Phil's old office; personal grudges now cheerily burning, she flew beside the Hulk and down towards the bay.

There were agents there, guns in hand; Pepper raised a hand and fired a magnet beam, taking most of the guns with it as it blew open a window. The wind whistled in, bright and cheerful, as the Hulk roared.

That was enough to make most of the agents turn tail, but Pepper dealt with those that didn't; she picked them up and set them outside, sending them through the open window and putting them down on the ground.

When she returned, the Hulk was watching for her, his eyes lighting up when he saw her; he held out a hand, which she took with a smile, letting him lead her down the hall and down the stairs. 

_"Madam, I've word on Fury's location. Tyr has pushed him back down into the labs—but Clint and Natasha are there as well, and they are coming up,"_ JARVIS said. Pepper froze.

"Does Phil know?" she asked.

_"I am alerting him, madam. Regardless, I believe you ought to be there as backup."_

"You don't think Phil can handle it?" Pepper said, tilting her head.

 _"No, madam, I most certainly do. I also believe he may want someone to restrain him, should it come to that,_ " JARVIS replied.

"Right," Pepper agreed, beckoning to the Hulk as the two headed off downstairs.

...

"That everything?" Clint called, looking up at Natasha as she clambered over the shelves and grabbed files, throwing them into bags and slinging them over her shoulder.

"Just about, yes," she said. "I got everything that could be traced back to us or used against us in some way. We ought to hurry, my love; there is much I am missing upstairs."

"Sorry, babe. You can throw a brick through the base windows later. Let's roll," Clint said, hefting a few bags over his shoulder as the two headed up the stairs and towards the labs.

They were quick and careful, and quiet as could be—not that the fire and battle raging around them wouldn't cover most of their noise, but it was about being careful, really. 

That said, all the stealth in the world wouldn't save them from the enormous gun now pointed in their faces.

Clint immediately shoved Natasha out of the way as he saw the coils of the gun begin to glow blue; she cursed him in Russian and went to yank him down beside her and shield him. Before she could, they met Fury's single shimmering good eye as it gleamed with triumph.

"Before I blow you both straight to hell, you two mind telling me how you got into my lab?"


	67. Mutually Assured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few friendly chats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite dialogs in the entire story; Tony and the mystery person's, I mean. And yes here's another cliffhanger, I love all of you very much. But I love drama, too.

Fury had regretted the alliance with Asgard more and more as every minute in the base ticked by. They fought like madmen; there was no strategy aside from _smash_ , the warriors burning and destroying literally everything that caught their eye.

Hill had her hands full dealing with the field, and so he had taken matters into his own hands regarding S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most treasured secrets; the Phase 2 blueprints were down here, and damned if he was losing those.

Finding his two traitor agents had just been a bonus.

He leveled a gun on them, contemplative. Their eyes both blazed up at him, twin gazes of hate. That breezed past him; hate was for lesser men. No, he was just curious.

"You two," he said, "are very, very human. I've known that since I met you. Thor, I can buy the whole resurrecting bit. Maybe even the others, with some help. Especially since you've managed to take the Asgardians from me. But you two, well; dead stays dead. At least when it's human. So, how'd you do it?"

Natasha saw no harm in telling him. If he wished to play the fool, let him; it would give her time to find her knife.

"We escaped," she said. "We faked our deaths and ran. No one knew, not even our Coulson. We fled the country and found allies before our return. We did better than any of your agents ever could have, especially considering not even you found us, Director."

"No, I didn't," Fury agreed, "but then again, I had bigger problems to deal with."

He moved his gun, and that was when Natasha went to tackle him. She only stopped when she realized he had moved his sights to train them on Coulson.

"Like _you,_ agent," Fury said. "I should've killed you before you became a problem. Sentiment's funny like that. I suppose I liked the game."

" _Get away from them,"_ Phil rasped, his hand on his gun. "If you so much as lay a _finger_ on them, Fury, I'll—"

"If you move, they die," Fury told him, turning his gun back on Clint and Natasha. "If you put a finger on your trigger, they die. And you'd probably thank me if I killed you next."

"What was all this _for,_ Director?" Phil raged. "Honestly, what did you seek to gain? What did you _want_ from us? Did you honestly think we were going to be okay with you fighting war in our names, making us use weapons that the Red Skull made, weapons that were meant to kill anyone and everyone _you_ deemed a threat?"

"I wanted soldiers," Fury said, "which, unless you're very good actors, you should have been all this time. Soldiers use weapons. Soldiers _are_ weapons. And that means if they stop working, they get laid to waste. I wanted you to be a good weapon, Phil. And for awhile, all of you were. But there are always better weapons, better soldiers."

"Yeah, well, we're not soldiers. We're _Avengers."_

Phil looked up as Pepper blasted the gun right out of Fury's hands, the Hulk grabbing ahold of him and clenching him in his fist as Phil went to grab his partners, pulling both Clint and Natasha up and away as they grabbed the files, shaking.

"Oh, god, I thought—I thought you were gonna die for real, I just—"

"Clint, I'm fine," Phil promised. "Natasha, are you both all right?"

"Fine," she told him. "Pride's a bit sore, but I'll live. I'd have liked to knife him."

"Get in line," Clint grumbled. "Hey! Pep! Nice one-liner."

"I hung out with Tony Stark on a regular basis for the past decade plus," Pepper said. "I've been waiting for my moment for _years."_

Phil grinned helplessly, more glad to see her than he ever had been. She was smiling beneath the mask, that he could tell; he knew her well enough at this point.

"Right," Fury said, "hate to break up the party, but I figure the time I let you think you won has passed."

"Talk," the Hulk snarled. "Talk or I smash you."

"Without my weapon, I don't have much else to do," Fury agreed, "but it's not my weapon you need to worry about."

"What are you—"

"Commander Hill has with her a bomb containing the energy we've harvested from the Tesseract. Let me put this in layman's terms; if that goes off, that's enough energy to level half of the United States. But, since that wouldn't look good at our next PR meeting, we figured out a way to localize it. Everyone and everything about twenty miles away from here will be vaporized, kept in a chamber of self-sustaining energy that will ensure everything in it is dead and gone, beyond any hope of revival," Fury said.

They stared at him, uncomprehending.

Fury huffed. "What I'm saying is, the rest of your team and the men you brought with you are all going to die if you don't get them out now."

"...You sent your own...you sent your own second in command out there to die," Phil said, his voice growing numb. "You...you let Maria..."

"It doesn't have to be this way," Fury said. "Just retreat. Rot in some prison for the rest of your lives on treason charges. Hell, at least that way, you'll be together."

What remained of the Avengers looked at one another, silent.

...

" _Sir, there remains one more weapon. I'm afraid I can't read its energy signature, but I can get its location,"_ JARVIS told Tony. He nodded, soaring up and away when JARVIS gave him directions.

Something about this felt wrong. He'd managed to get rid of the entire shipment of Phase 2 weapons that S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought with them, so what made this one so different? And why didn't it have an energy signature?

Tony had his question answered when he skidded to a stop, staring up in horror at an enormous blue and chrome metal contraption, watching it hum with life as its wires pulsed with cosmic energy, leading up to a little black box, a shiny silver button glinting on its surface.

Maria Hill sat leaning against the bomb, smoking a cigarette in one hand and holding her finger over the button with the other.

"...You've got to be kidding me," Tony said, raising his repulsors.

"Don't bother," Maria said, her voice dull and dead. "You do that, the whole goddamn thing goes off and we die anyway. If you fry the systems enough, we'll take out half the country along with us."

Tony was silent, lifting up his faceplate to get a better look.

"Phase 2," he said.

"Not quite," Maria replied. "It's...bigger. And it's only for here, for this one time. The conditions are that if your team doesn't retreat and surrender from here and our base both, I blow this up, and we take out this whole area. Everyone in it, dead."

"We have shields—"

"And this is energy straight from the core of the universe itself. What can a few mages hope to do against it, Tony? You don't trust magic any more than I do. Don't bullshit yourself," Maria said. "We're going to die here."

"You don't think we'll retreat," Tony said.

"No. Why would you? I know your type. All superheroes are like that; they believe in the last-minute save, in the epiphany that shortchanges the villain, has someone seeing the light, having a change of heart. You all believe that you'll live to see something better."

Maria looked up at the sky and exhaled a plume of smoke.

"I don't," she said. "I don't think I'll ever see it, and I wouldn't deserve it if I did. But I know it'll be there, if I just keep working. And that means I have to do this."

"So...we give up. Just give up," Tony said. "Sit here and wait to die."

"And have a cigarette, if you want," Maria agreed. "I brought a whole pack. You ever smoke, Tony?"

"No," Tony replied. "Maria, please—"

"I have to do this," Maria cut him off. "I have my orders. I have...I have a job to do."

"But you have—"

"She's safe," Maria said, her voice fierce and sharp. "She's safe and sound back at base, with a gun and a whole squad of agents to protect her. Victoria will be safe. And he'll never hurt her. I died a good death. They don't hurt you anymore after that. And she'll be...happy. Safe and sound and happy. That's all I ever wanted for her. For anyone."

"Hill, you don't need to fight like this. That's not what she wants. That's not what heroes do. That's not how we get results!" Tony said. "Believe me, I know, I've seen plenty of fights before this one, but you can't just—"

"What about this is any different from Nagasaki or Hiroshima? What makes this any less better for the greater good?" She laughed, grim and humorless.

"You're a pop culture junkie, you'll like this one. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.' Isn't that it?"

"Maria," Tony said, "Maria, please, you don't want to die—"

"I don't," she agreed, "I have my orders. What I want and what I'm ordered to do aren't supposed to coexist. It's how you stay human. It's how you make excuses."

"Maria, for god's sake—"

"Tell her I'm sorry," she said. "Tell her I love her. Please."

She paused and stared down at her cigarette before she began to think again.

"Oh, right. Shit. We're both going to die here," she said. "Nevermind. I know she knows."

"Maria, you can't do this, she'll never—"

"She's safe! She's _safe! I'm protecting her, god damn it!"_ Maria whirled on him, her lips bared in a desperate snarl, her eyes wild. Tony pulled away and watched her, wary.

That was all she had to hold onto; the idea that Victoria would be safe after she was gone, damn the consequences. Tony saw his actions within her own at that moment and hated it.

He paused for a second, trying to think of some way to knock her out, disarm her somehow—but the bomb, god only knew how he could dismantle that, and if he screwed this one up—

Before he could think of some way to find a solution, it was delivered straight to him.

 


	68. Negotiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this chapter extra long because I'm just so goddamn sorry I have no time for anything ever and I just oh my god. I'm so sorry. Please enjoy.  
> I am going to make all of you ship Victoria/Maria because I need more lesbians in my life and also to not be the sole person who ships this. Sucks to be into obscure comic book characters: that could be the title of my autobio.  
> And ah, yes, the proper ending; politics. Always. Mostly because, to be frank? I can't imagine any of the Avengers as murderers. Sorry MCU, I follow the 616 protocol; Avengers don't kill. (Clint and Nat in this verse might but even so...it just doesn't sit right with me, idk.)

"Maria? Maria, they told me you were on the field..."

"Oh my god, _no,_ " Maria sobbed. "Get _away, get away..."_

Victoria Hand stood in the clearing, a gun that outweighed her by a good twenty pounds slung over her shoulder as she stared at the two of them, baffled.

"What the hell is all this?" She asked. "What's going on? Aren't we _fighting_ Iron Man, honey?"

" _Tori, you have to go!"_ Maria screamed, her voice breaking. "Tori, _please,_ I followed my orders, he said you'd be _safe_ , he _promised_ — _"_

"I wasn't going to let you fight alone," Victoria said, smiling shyly. "I mean, I can handle a gun as well as any regular agent. I mean, uh—I'm not going to get demerited for this, I hope."

She turned her gun on Tony, squaring her shoulders and settling into her stance.

"Get away from Maria," she said, "and I won't shoot you until later."

"Oh, for god's sake," Tony said, heaving a sigh. "Victoria, you have to go. If you don't, I don't know what this bomb is going to do."

She looked around, a frown creasing her features as her brows furrowed. When her eyes fell on the enormous device, Tony knew he had her.

"Bomb? What—is that what this is? What—what the hell is going on? Maria? Maria, tell me what's going on right _now,_ or I'll—"

"You have to _go_ ," Maria cried.

"She's going to die," Tony piped up helpfully. "The second you leave, she's going to push the button and kill everyone here, herself included."

He felt guilty about the look of pure, abject horror that crossed Victoria's face, but if he saved all their lives with this, he wouldn't harp on it too much.

"Maria? Is...is that why he sent you out here? Is that why you had me stay back at base?" She said. "So you could _die?_ Is that it?"

"My orders," Maria rasped. "I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave you. But if it kept you safe, I had to do it. If I was gone, he'd never hurt you again. No more missions you weren't meant for. No more hostage situations, no more knife wounds, no more bomb threats. You'd be safe. That's all I can ask for, Tori. My life is Fury's to forfeit. But not yours. Not if I do this."

Victoria stared at her, her hands shaking as she gripped the gun. Tony tensed, ready to swoop in and grab it if she was going to drop it.

"So...so you were going to just...die here? For my sake? And not even tell me?" Victoria said, her eyebrows knitting together in anger. "You stupid fucking _asshole,_ you thought that a fucking _suicide run_ would make me love you more, you—I don't _believe_ you, I'm going to fucking chew your ear off when we get home—"

"Victoria, _you have to go,"_ Maria screamed, "I'm not letting you do this! I'm _not letting you die, too!"_

"I'm not going to," Victoria said, sitting down next to the bomb and snatching the pack of cigarettes out of Maria's hands, lighting one up and sitting beside her, letting the cigarette burn. "I'm not going to leave. Not even if he shoots me."

"Hey, I'm all for you sticking around," Tony said, holding his hands up. "No weapons on my part."

"You have to _leave_ ," Maria repeated. "You're going to _die,_ Tori!"

"Oh, are you going to set off the bomb, then? Because Iron Man's not going to shoot me. And no other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents even know we're here. How could they? They'd never go along with this if they did, and you know it," Victoria said. "If anyone kills me, it's going to be you, Maria."

Maria stared at her for a long, slow minute.

A few tears dripped down onto her cigarette and put it out with a tiny hiss, the smoke disappearing into the sky.

"No," Maria whispered as Victoria put out her cigarette. "No, god no, _never,_ Tori, oh god, oh _god_ —"

She threw her arms around the other woman and began to sob, despair and confusion flowing up from her heart and out through her eyes to feed the earth beneath them. Victoria held on tight and sighed, stroking her hair.

Tony looked away and let them have a moment to themselves before the three of them heard Maria's phone go off.

She answered it with shaking hands and was greeted with the immediate inevitable.

" _They're not retreating?"_

"No, sir," Maria said. "No, they're not."

" _Blow it up, Commander,"_ Fury replied. " _It was an honor."_

Years of obedience and unquestioning loyalty weighed on Maria's shoulders and darkened her eyes. For a long time, she was silent.

"I...I can't, sir," she finally said. "Victoria's here."

" _Then she goes too,"_ Fury replied, and Maria's eyes flew open in horror. " _I'm not playing games anymore. The last time I let a partner live, you understand how badly that bit me in the ass, don't you, Hill? Coulson, my most loyal agent, became the biggest thorn in my side. Now that she knows why you're dead and gone and she only has a pension and a few medals to remember you by, do you think she won't do the same?"_

Maria stared out into nothing. Neither Tony or Victoria could read what went on just beneath the still surface of her expression.

"...You want me to kill Tori," she said. "You want me to...to let her die."

" _Because you were under the pretense that letting her live without you was so much more noble, Hill? Push the goddamn button, before they blow the whole building to smithereens! Is that what you want? Your entire life's work ending up like salt and ashes, Commander? What were you working for this whole time?"_

Maria was quiet.

"Her," she said. "It was always her."

Victoria's hands fisted in Maria's uniform as they shook.

"I'm not blowing this place up, Director," she said. "I would do it for her. But not with her. She's not going to die by my side. I promised myself that."

" _Are you_ insane, _Commander? Are you going to risk her life later, after this is all over and I shoot you both for disobeying orders?"_

"No," Maria said. "No. Because I know this plan as well as you, Director. We don't win without this bomb. And that means you're not going to win without me. And I'm not playing a fucking _game_ anymore, Director. _She is not going to die here."_

There was dead silence on the other line for a long time. Victoria buried her face into Maria's neck.

" _I'll send someone out to take care of the bomb. And the two of you with it,"_ he finally said.

"It was a pleasure, sir," Maria said. "Thanks to you, I made the first good decision I've made in a long time."

She hung up and threw her phone into the trees behind her.

Victoria began to sob, high-pitched whimpers of terror as Maria lifted her chin up and wiped a few tears away, kissing both her cheeks. She smiled down at the other woman, holding her face steady with shaking hands.

"Hey, while I'm on a roll with the whole good decision thing, will you marry me?" She asked. "I mean, before we get shot and all."

Victoria stopped crying and began to giggle. Maria started to laugh along with her, until finally, the two were hugging one another and crying, laughing along with the tears that poured down their cheeks.

"Neither of you are going to die," Tony said, making them both look up, shocked. "Look, come with me; I'm going to go get Steve."

"What do you think the Avengers can do?" Maria said. "I mean, you don't think—"

"No, I don't think _we_ can do anything," Tony agreed. "The Allfather, however, is another story entirely."

Maria just stared up at him, uncomprehending. Tony sighed.

"Uh, worry about it later," he said. "Just stay close to me, because the last thing I need is having to break up a fight over a case of mistaken intentions."

"If they lay a hand on Maria, I'll blow their fucking heads off," Victoria said, jaw set and gun raised.

"See, with that attitude, they'll like you. Just keep it up," Tony said, making sure the two of them were following him before he soared off, keeping low to the ground as he searched for Steve.

...

When Steve looked up from his fight, he was more than a little confused. Fortunately, Tony was good enough to explain why Maria Hill and Victoria Hand were standing behind him.

"There's an enormous bomb that's going to destroy this entire place if we don't get our asses in gear and deal with Fury's shit, soon," Tony said. "Maria was going to blow herself to bits; fortunately, Victoria was a hell of a motivational speaker on my behalf, and now they're going to be killed by Fury if they stay. I figured they'd cooperate with us, so hey, why not have them help?"

Steve stared at him for a second, head tilted and eyes wide. He wasn't a master strategist for nothing, though, so the look of complete confusion didn't last long.

"Right," he said, straightening up, "we'll need the Allfather, then?"

"Correctamundo, my good man," Tony agreed. "We're going to have Odin threaten to not only revoke Asgard's alliance with Earth, but declare war on them. If Fury doesn't back down, the World Security Council will. And, that means two things; one, we need the Allfather himself, and I need Darcy to hack into the Council's database through S.H.I.E.L.D. computers and get them on the line without Fury knowing."

"You contact Darcy," Steve said, "and I'll go get the Allfather. Victoria! Drop the gun, ma'am, you're not going to need it anymore. You're safe here."

"They don't know that," Victoria said, "and Asgardians are the type to stab first, ask questions later. With all due respect, sir, I almost just lost my fiancèe to a bomb that I wasn't even aware _existed,_ and should I lose her to a single case of overzealous warfare, I am going to blow this place to smithereens myself. Allow me to keep the gun. You'll have less casualties that way."

Steve stared at her for a long, slow minute.

"Fiancèe? Oh, congratulations," he said. "And...err, keep the gun. The two of you come with me; we'll fetch Odin. Tony, hold the line here and contact Darcy."

"Will do, Steve," Tony promised, watching as Victoria and Maria headed off. Steve hung behind for just a second to look at him.

"She's dangerous and vicious, unflinchingly devoted and more than a bit trigger-happy," Steve said. "Despite my better judgement, I think I like her."

"Me too," Tony agreed. "Now go, before she blows someone's head off for looking at Maria funny."

Steve chuckled, heading off after them and going to find the Allfather as Tony turned on his comms and searched for Darcy.

Back at Stark Industries, the computers began to blip; Darcy accepted the call, and asked, "Hello? You guys in trouble?"

" _Darce? Hey, I need you to do me a favor,"_ Tony said. " _We need the WSC on the phone, and we need Fury to not know about it. Can you do that in about ten minutes?"_

"Done and done," Darcy promised, tapping away. "Hey, is everyone all right?"

" _Sif's fine, don't fuss,"_ Tony said, amused. Darcy glared at him without thinking about how ineffective it was.

"I meant everyone, jackass," she said. "Status?"

" _Fine; we're holding down the fort. A little glitch popped up in our systems, but you and this bit of hacking business should help us clear it right up. Tell Jane business is as usual,"_ Tony said.

"I hear you, Tony," Jane replied. "Everyone's fine and we're still fighting. It's all I can ask for."

" _Yep,"_ Tony agreed. " _You two be careful. We'll be fine. Contact me when you've cracked the systems."_

 _"_ We're in," Darcy said with a satisfied grin. "What should I do now?"

" _Wait for my signal and I'll tell you when to put 'em on the line,"_ Tony promised. " _I'll keep in touch."_

The two of them nodded as the blipping stopped and it was quiet again; they settled in to wait, curious as to how this new development would unfold.

 


	69. Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry college turned me into a piece of shit incapable of updating, I promise once I start putting up more oneshots this will stop. ;w;  
> To sort of counterbalance that I'm going to make this the second to last chapter simply so I can put this and Iron and Fire up both in one more fell swoop. You'll get my feelsy introspective post then.

Loki grit his teeth and ducked, another burst of cosmic energy flying over his head. It was more than a little unpleasant to be confronted with the power of the universe. He didn't like power greater than his own.

Still, his shields held, and for that he was grateful. He did not know where Odin was, but _—_

" _Down,_ Loki!"

He ducked on instinct before realizing the voice; when it clicked, he saw the Allfather, staff raised, blasting one of the Tesseract's weapons to bits.

"Behind me," Odin said. Loki bristled; Odin threw him a look of absolute pleading.

"My son, please," he said, "your shields weaken, and I cannot _—_ "

"I will be _fine,_ Allfather, if you would just _—_ "

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because another burst of blue energy struck him square in the back.

Odin was numb as he watched Loki stumble, clinging to his horse; the horse screamed, and would have bolted had Odin not held up his hand.

Loki looked up at him with a weak grin.

"See?" He said. "The shields...they held."

He winced and spat blood from his mouth. "Not as well as I would have liked, however. Your fault. You're getting soft in your age, you old fool."

"Oh, if I could be so lucky," Odin said, his voice quavering as he picked his son up off his horse and held him. "Hold on, Loki. We will hold."

"I already have," Loki said. "A bit of internal bruising and some mild damage otherwise, but I will be fine, albeit sore for awhile. It is you who must keep up your end of the bargain."

"And so I will," Odin said, raising his staff. The magic surrounding the field began to glow brighter in intensity as he held tight to his son. "Be at ease, Loki."

"Easy for the man without a battered back to say," Loki said with a dramatic sigh.

Odin simply stroked his hair, quiet. He knew Loki might not have refused to flinch away out of exhaustion and not love, but he would let himself think the latter. An old man was allowed his comforts.

Odin looked up to see Steven, Anthony, and two of the hounds of S.H.I.E.L.D. behind him. He tensed, clutching his staff; the woman raised her gun.

"If you even _blink_ funny at her, I'll _—_ "

"Odin, they're our allies," Steve said, cutting in. "Victoria, Allfather, stand down, please. We need you."

Odin did so, and the woman lowered her gun in response. Steve sighed, relieved.

"Good, so," he said, "there's a bomb Fury put up awhile away so he could destroy us all; we need you, Odin."

"What would you have me do? I am magic, not technology," he said. Steve shook his head.

"No, no; you're not needed for technology _—_ or your magic, in fact. We need you as a ruler," he explained. "I have an idea."

Odin listened to the Captain's explanation before nodding, satisfied.

"Very well," he agreed. "If you think it will work, I trust you. I have little else left to attempt, I believe."'

"None of us have many options right now," Tony agreed. "Regardless, we should probably put this one in action, and quick."

Odin nodded, raising his staff high once more. A flash of light surrounded them, almost liquidlike in its glow, before they were all gone, heading to base.

...

Odin tried to restrain himself when he confronted the man who killed his son, he did. He justified himself with the truth that Frigga, had she confronted him, would have probably ripped him apart limb from limb.

He did not do that, for diplomacy's sake, but he admittedly made quite an entrance.

The entire wall of the lab was blown away, rock and rubble blazing with godly energy as Odin strode in on Sleipnir, eyes blazing and staff raised.

"You," he said, "are the one responsible for the death of my son."

"Sure am," Fury said, hefting his gun and staring him down. "He seems fine now, though. I can certainly fix that, of course. At least, if you don't back off."

"Oh, no," Odin said, "none of this. No more posturing, no more games, no more _lies._ You have slain one son and wounded another with your trickery, and _it will cease."_

Thunder rumbled, and for a second upon his horse, despite all that had occurred to wear the god down, he looked as mighty and fierce as he had thousands of years ago when he met Laufey upon the battlefield.

"And just what do you plan to do about it? Killing me won't solve anything," Fury said. "You and I both know that."

"No," Odin agreed. "But you have given me more than enough cause to solve the problem another way."

" _Now, Darcy,"_ Tony messaged her. From within Stark Industries, Darcy began to key in code and turn the call on, connecting the World Security Council to S.H.I.E.L.D. as Fury and Odin spoke.

"I will declare war on Earth," Odin said. "I will raze your entire country, and the rest of the world along with it. After the death of my heir, I have the right. And I have allies. You merely have weapons that we have already overcome in the scope of this battle alone."

"You're not gods," Fury said, "or have you forgotten? We're more than capable of taking you on. You're just aliens, and we are _more_ than capable of dealing with aliens."

"But not armies," Odin said. "You would be the only line of defense against all of Asgard's might. Your Avengers have abandoned you. Your weapons are obsolete. You are without any options, and I am more than willing to take advantage of that. No more, Director. I have allowed enough to pass. I do not like war. But I will wage it for the sake of my sons."

"So be it, then," Fury replied, pulling the trigger.

Odin watched the cosmic energy rocket towards him, impassive.

Before he could summon up his own magic, a clear shield snapped up around him, making the blast ricochet off its path and blast the wall open.

Odin looked down at Loki, shocked.

"We are going to destroy the lab at this rate," Loki said. "And then I fear we shall _all_ die here."

"Loki..." Odin murmured, shaking his head.

"As my father was saying," Loki said, "I have been through more than enough with these games, Fury. If we do not declare war upon Earth, I will. And I think you will find me a far more vicious opponent than Odin."

"I killed your brother, and I will kill you too, _Laufeyson,_ should it come to that," Fury said. Loki actually grinned, bright and bloody.

"Not if my mother has anything to say about it," he replied. "Kill me, then. Because you've done such a _wonderful_ job with the Allfather."

Fury's face creased into a frown, and he went for the trigger once more.

" _That's quite enough, Director."_

Tony resisted the urge to cheer. From within Stark Industries, Darcy cracked her knuckles with a satisfied grin.

" _We will not,"_ intoned the echoing group voice of the World Security Council, " _allow ourselves to go to war with Asgard. We have not the weapons, nor the soldiers. Phase 2 has failed us. The Avengers Initiative has failed us. Call a retreat for your men and end this."_

"They've destroyed my base of operations, stolen valuable information, and _—_ "

" _All of which you have provoked through engaging them in combat, Director. The death of Thor would have been more than enough justification for Asgard to engage in war with us, resurrected or not. That said, they are willing to reach a cease-fire. We agree. For the sake of Earth, we will not go to war—which means you and your bomb are no longer needed."_

Fury put his gun down, a grimace marring his features.

"Recall the men," he said, grasping his phone. "The WSC's decided we're done."

He hung up, regarding the Avengers.

"So," he said. "You're done, too."

"The Avengers Initiative is over," Tony agreed. "We're moving to Malibu for awhile. 'West Coast Avengers' has a nice ring to it."

"You're crazy," Clint said.

"Whatever, whatever. Let's just go," he said with a yawn. "I'm done. Hill, you still got the controls for the bomb?"

" _It's been shut down, Tony,"_ Maria agreed, her voice crackling through the armor. " _We're all clear."_

"Marvelous," he said. "Then let's move out, gentlemen. We've got a plane to catch."

"After all this...that's it?" Fury said, incredulous. "No well-timed revenge, no poetic justice? Seems pretty stupid to leave me alive."

"You know, we're not you," Steve said. "We never wanted to be you in the first place. And that means we're going to be better than that. No one dies here today. I promised my team that. I think after all you put us through...we deserve a day where everybody lives. Even you, Director."

He beckoned to the others, and they followed him out of the rubble of their former base without a word. Fury watched them leave, inscrutable.

He looked down at his gun, considering.

Without a word, he disappeared into the depths of S.H.I.E.L.D., the leather of his jacket fluttering in his wake, his steps echoing with ominous ringing as he made his way into the darkness.

...

"So, we're all okay?" Bruce said, rubbing his eyes and wincing as they greeted the outside sun.

"For a measure of 'okay,' yes. I mean, I wouldn't call this our finest hour _—_ I'm going to have _ridiculous_ helmet hair in the morning _—_ but we're...we're alive. And we kept our dignity. Bonus points for that," Tony said. Bruce laughed, leaning on Pepper's shoulder for support as she helped him out.

"So...do we have a car, or are we walking?" Steve asked.

"I have enough magic that we might teleport," Loki said. "We ought to return to the previous battlefield anyway; my mother shall be looking after us."

"Teleportation's fine by me," Tony agreed. "I hate magic a lot less when I get to use it to my advantage."

"Such is the way of most things," Loki replied, snapping his fingers.

They were gone in a flash of light, never to return to the building before them again _—_ or, as was more accurate after the fight, the rubble around their feet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I'm sure you're all asking, why didn't I kill Fury?  
> It doesn't personally sit right with me to have the Avengers kill. I know in the movies it's different, I do. But I can't quite wrap my head around the concept of an Avenger resorting to murder. Not for any reason. I know it might be childish but just, I dunno, it bothers the hell out of me.  
> Plus, killing the guy would've created grudges in SHIELD, might've gotten them in hot water with another Director later. Better for them to just leave and let it be rather than risk starting new grudges or something.


	70. Malibu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A last minute party and the most well-deserved trip to Malibu in human history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Risorgere.  
> Holy christ, it's been almost a year. And I only remember that because this was my NaNoWriMo project. That got quite the hell out of hand. As it tends to.   
> And I remember it because I wrote the first approximately 30k of this in the daycare my parents own because hurricane sandy fucked my power up at home, and like fuck I was going to let a hurricane stop me from hitting my daily word count.   
> Which really says a lot about me as a person, but I digress.   
> At any rate, this story. Man, me and this story have a complex relationship. I love it probably more than any of the other stories I have here on Ao3 for the simple reason that it feels more like a novel. Not that I don't love my other stories, but they're a lot more romance-based, less plot and more subtle character arcs and sloppy makeouts. This one wasn't, much in the vein of AMaHTS, and I loved it for that. Romance took a backseat to asskicking and friendship and stuff and sometimes that's nice too.  
> Mind you, it didn't exactly win me hundreds of thousands of accolades in the way my more romance-orientated work did, BUT I also had some of the most supremely-consistent and fantastic commentators on this story. People were more involved in this one than any other I've written, I think, and that's precisely BECAUSE of its plotty, twisty structure; it's easier to predict ships than plot twists and turns and that meant I got people more invested, even if my audience was smaller. If that makes sense.  
> At any rate, I think this story, plot-wise, stands out as my best one on Ao3. And it was a worthy exercise and it was fun to do, and I did in fact complete my NaNo that year, and it was just fantastic. This one's my hurricane story, and I love it dearly for that.  
> And I did have romance anyway, so there's that.  
> I am so happy about all of you that have stuck through this to the end. Bless every last one of you with the confectioneries of your choosing when all this is said and done. You read this and I love you for it. Thank you so much. Thanks for everything, really. I know a lot of you read my other work too, and I'm grateful for that, but this story's my odd bird one, so I'm even more grateful. Thank you so much. :)

The first thing that Tony did was call Darcy as the others went to account for the Asgardians.

"We did it, kid. You and Lord Commander Foster get over here, and pronto. No one's seen Sif, but I'm pretty sure she's eager to get an eyeful of you both."

" _I'll take my top off for the occasion and everything. Don't worry, pops. We'll be over in a minute. Promise,"_ Darcy paused for a second.

" _Hey, Tony? I'm really glad you're okay. I'd have missed you if you were stupid enough to die."_

"Good thing I'm not," Tony said, amused. "See you soon, Darce. And for what it's all worth, kiddo, I'm glad you're not dead, too."

" _Rad. It's been copacetic; catch ya in a jif, pops. It'll be very."_

"Christ, you're speaking another language again," Tony said with a laugh, hanging up the phone when her only response was to blow a raspberry at him.

He looked around at all the others, patching up the few wounds they'd managed to rack up as they embraced their comrades, and decided it was time for the suit to get a break for the day.

He grabbed his suitcase, opened it up, and closed his eyes, relaxing and giving the command, "JARVIS, take it off."

" _I always wish you would phrase that more politely, sir. I suppose it shall have to do."_

Tony smirked, shaking his head and throwing out his arms, letting his AI do the rest.

The armor fell away from him in a shower of crimson and gold, re-settling itself in the case; Tony smiled, content, when he felt only his under-armor shirt and jeans on his body after a few minutes of armor maintenance.

"All in all, good day," he decided, picking the armor up and toting it over one shoulder. "Should really throw some upgrades your way, huh, bud?"

The armor didn't reply. Tony just sighed, smiled, and went to go find Steve.

...

"You know, you're more than welcome to join us," Steve said, crossing his legs and sitting on a smooth stone, overlooking the groups of friends and soldiers that had assembled. The woman beside him heaved a sigh.

"I appreciate the offer, Cap, don't get me wrong," Maria said. "But...I'll be honest. I need to sort my life out a bit and figure out where I'm going now that I've effectively handed in my resignation letter to S.H.I.E.L.D., you know?"

"I understand," Steve said. "But...I have a question. If you're not going to be Director, now...where do you want to go from here, Maria? Do you have anywhere to be, any purpose?"

"You'd know a lot about feeling lost and purposeless, huh, Captain?" She said, giving him a look. Steve sighed.

"Something like that," he agreed. "So..."

"I wanted to be Director for her sake," Maria said. "For Victoria's sake. So she'd always be safe, I mean. So I could protect her and make sure she wasn't in danger. That's all I wanted. That was my purpose. My direction. That hasn't changed. It never will."

"Good," Steve said, voice warm. "Does she know? Have you ever told her?"

"No," Maria said with a sigh, "it could've compromised my plan. Now, though...I have no plans. No goals. No future. I just have her. And I'm happier than I've ever been, honestly."

" _That,_ you should definitely tell her," Steve said with a smile.

"I plan to," Maria agreed with a small laugh.

Steve wrote something down on a piece of his glove that had been tattered in the fight and ripped it clean off. He handed the red leather to Maria; she raised an eyebrow.

"Tony's number," he said, "because I never answer my phone. When you've found your purpose, call us. Or, y'know, if you haven't. We're pretty good at finding people their purpose in life."

"Victoria's one hell of an accountant. Who knows? You might need that in the future," Maria said, standing up. "Don't worry, Captain. We'll call."

"It was a pleasure, Commander," Steve said. "Keep in touch."

She just nodded, saluting him. Steve saluted back.

"Dismissed," he said, hiding a smile. Maria huffed, giving him an exasperated look before running down the hill, meeting the woman standing with her arms open and an enormous smile on her face halfway, the two of them all that was left in the world for one another for a brief, shining moment.

Victoria kissed her forehead and they walked away together, hand in hand.

Steve watched them leave with a smile before deciding he needed to go find Tony.

Fortunately, Tony had already found him.

"Hey," he said, coming up behind Steve and hugging him tight. "So we did it."

"Yes, we did," Steve agreed. "And a lot of it, we did because of you. Thank you, Tony. I'm pretty sure you saved us."

He smiled and turned himself around to cup his cheek, stroking his stubble and placing his free hand over the arc reactor, another reminder Tony was alive and safe.

"I know you sure saved me," he murmured. While his lover was stunned, Steve took the opportunity to kiss Tony, slow and sweet. His tongue played lazily with Tony's, smushing together and melting against each other, the two of them supporting one another as they looked inside themselves and found the yawning chasm of freedom within.

It was a long fall, and what waited at the bottom, neither of them knew. But they were holding hands the whole way.

"So, now that this must be about, oh, I don't know, the eighth or ninth time we've saved the world lately, got time for a hot date?" Tony teased as he pulled away, leaning against Steve's broad chest. "I don't think I've ever shown you the Malibu house. I'd like to."

"The house? I know you, Tony. We won't leave the bedroom," Steve teased. Tony grinned and kissed his forehead.

"Hey, there's a lab and a beach there, so that's two more locations at least,” he defended himself.

"And you'll want sex in both of them," Steve said, giving him a look. Tony huffed.

"Yeah, well," he mumbled, before getting cut off with a possessive kiss that burned and tingled at his lips.

"So will I," Steve purred very quietly in his ear before pulling away.

"Oh, I've _definitely_ earned this vacation," Tony said, beaming from ear to ear.

"I think we both have," Steve agreed, "but we have some time yet. The Asgardians want a feast here, to celebrate our victory. Pepper got plane tickets for the morning."

"Oh my god, are you _—_ you know what, fine, okay," Tony said with a huff. "But...where were they thinking they were going to find a feast in the middle of nowhere?"

"I think Darcy and Jane took them to buy pizza and groceries back in the city," Steve replied.

"Jesus Christ," Tony said. "I hope they bought beer, too."

Steve laughed, holding Tony close and kissing the top of his head.

"Don't feel bad," he said. "It means we'll have a night all to ourselves before we leave. And a tent in the secluded forest, all alone."

"I've created a monster," Tony said, "but I'm very satisfied with the results. Of, well, everything, actually. We did good, Steve."

"We really did," Steve murmured, "and we couldn't have done it without you. C'mon, Tony. This celebration's for you. At least, as far as I'm concerned."

"Good thing you're the only one whose opinion matters," Tony said with a grin, taking his hand and squeezing it. "At least, as far as I'm concerned."

Steve beamed, cupping his cheeks and kissing him one last time, illuminated by the light of the setting sun, before going to find the others and join the party.

...

Sif paced the field like a cornered tiger, tossing her head from side to side and sharpening her sword on a whet-stone. All the men knew what that meant, and so they gave her a wide berth.

"I have never seen her so anxious after a battle," Hogun remarked from out of the range of her sword. "She is normally the most relaxed out of all of us; after all, victory is the only thing that matters to her."

"Except that is no longer the case," Volstagg remarked, a contemplative frown on his face. "She has those she wishes to meet again after the fight; to ensure that they are safe and remind them that she has done the same. She is unused to such a thing, and it is causing her distress. I understand the feeling; I have driven myself similarly mad, waiting for my wife and children..."

The man's eyes did indeed look downcast. However, as if waiting for a cue, a light but firm cough was heard from behind him.

When he turned, he saw a woman standing before him, her red hair falling over her shoulders and children clinging to her skirts. She regarded him with a mix of relief, amusement, and a deep, well-worn love that was equal parts comfort and passion.

" _Hildy,"_ he breathed, ecstatic. "Oh, my dove..."

The two of them looked at one another for a second longer before the children could wait no longer and shouted in delighted unison, "Daddy's home!"

They dove at him as his wife threw her arms around him; even the mighty Volstagg's girth was barely enough to support them and the weight of all their love, and so he sank to the ground and embraced them all, laughing and weeping with open joy as he kissed his wife's cheeks and let his children tug at his clothes and beard, pressing kisses to his cheeks and asking him in loud, chattering tones about the battle and the warriors he'd met.

"There will be time for stories later, my dears," Volstagg said, stroking their heads and setting them aside to look at his wife. "Hildy, my dove, when did you arrive?"

"The Bifrost is open due to the magic of the prince and our Lord Commander," she replied. "I have come to attend to the feasts, and all of Asgard has come to celebrate our victory, as well as our alliance with your Avengers!"

"Your alliance with _what?"_

Tony came up the hill at the worst possible time; the exact moment he confronted the reality of his new life with half of Asgard in and out of his house.

"The Avengers," Hildy said, looking at him in confusion. "You did not know? You look to be the man of iron and lightning that Thor bespoke of so fondly."

"No, I did not," Tony said. "Great news. Just great. I can hear the screams already. They might even be joy."

"You will have my sword, Anthony," Hogun said, looking more amused than he had in years.

"As well as mine," Fandral promised.

"And mine!" Volstagg chimed in.

"And mine!" Gunnhild, Volstagg's eldest daughter, promised eagerly.

"When did you get a sword?" He said, looking at his daughter. She huffed and tucked a strand of loose auburn hair behind her ear.

"Sif gave it to me, and momma said if I wanted to run around like a wild boar like daddy does, I was more than welcome to," she said.

"Speaking of the lady Sif," Fandral cut in at the sight of Volstagg's pained grimace, "I am sure she will swear her sword to you as we have...but she is otherwise preoccupied at the moment."

"Ah, young love," Tony said. "I always thought it was better with lesbians anyway."

Steve elbowed him; Tony gave him a pained look.

"Kidding, kidding! Allow me some joy in my life before all of Asgard crashes at my place, okay?" Tony protested with a groan.

"I ought to speak with her," Fandral said, heaving a sigh. "If I die, tell the others I died a noble death."

"Brunhilde will escort you to Valhalla herself, I am certain," Hogun replied. "Go, Fandral. See to her."

He nodded, starting off down the hill as Tony looked at the others.

"So, you guys wanna go help Steve and I set up this fire pit before I jump into it?" He asked.

"Please do," Steve said, bringing Tony down towards the others. The Asgardians looked a bit baffled, but followed behind anyway.

"He is a funny one, that lad," Hildy remarked to her husband. "I wonder if he's any good with children?"

Volstagg, quite wisely, said nothing.

...

Bucky threw his arms around Natasha and hugged her until his muscles groaned and creaked in protest, his whole body shaking as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her hair.

"You're alive," he said, "god, I was so worried, but you're alive..."

"I'm right here, Bucky," she promised. "I am not leaving. Not ever again. Have you not heard? You are an Avenger now. We tend to stick together."

" _What?"_ Bucky said, giving them all a look of shock. Coulson would've found it more satisfying if it didn't mean he was in charge of even more heroes. (Though, frankly, he should have found it inevitable.)

"Of course you are," Steve's voice resounded in his ear, warm and loving as he embraced his brother tight. "Why are you so surprised?"

"Yeah, you didn't hear? Grand Council's spoken. You're in. Congratulations and apologies are in order," Tony said. "You can thank and punch me. I had JARVIS update the system already."

Bucky took a good long look at Tony; the smart-mouthed, self-sacrificing, recklessly noble man he had presumed so much of and learned so much about in the course of five months. A few more things were decided on in his mind as he thought, and without a word, he stepped forward in one fluid pounce and hugged Tony tight.

"You're a good man," Bucky said. "A lot better than you think you are. Steve could use someone like you."

"And someone like you," Tony reminded him, "which is why we're both here to helpfully push him down the path of debauchery and snappy attitudes. I have an advantage, I admit; I get to screw him. Unless you really want to take me up on that whole 'introducing you to the future' idea, because _—_ "

"Tony, Jesus Christ," Bucky said, rolling his eyes and hugging him tighter.

He whispered in Tony's ear once he was sure no one else could hear him, not even Steve, and murmured, "You're nothing like him, you know. Not where you count."

He knew what that would mean to Tony, and so he didn't mind when he didn't get a reply. He just let go, and let Tony realize the weight of what had formed between them.

"I'm glad we found you," Tony said. "Even if it was goddamn cold in Siberia."

Bucky gave him a crooked grin before punching him in the arm. With a snorting little laugh, Tony punched him back.

"Do I have to separate you both?" Steve cut in, a smile on his face, like he knew. The two of them shrugged.

"Rather you didn't," Tony said. "Besides, we need someone to help us dig this damn barbeque pit."

He surveyed Bucky's robotic arm and frowned. "See, that? That's a piece of crap. Could hardly dig a moat around a sandcastle. Gimme a week, I'll make you something better. Guarantee it."

Bucky just smiled. Natasha watched the three of them bicker playfully with an inscrutable expression on her face; her lovers stood behind her, worried.

"Does it bother you, darling?" Coulson murmured into her ear. "I know he meant a lot to you."

"And he still does," Natasha replied, "but we are each others' partners and comrades. Those are his friends, in a way that is not part of the life we lived. We will always have one another...but they have him in a way I do not, as I do in kind. It is not a bad arrangement. After all..."

She turned to kiss them both, letting them hold her tight, shared warmth and a shared embrace that had her shuddering with pleasure.

"I have you," she murmured in their ears, "in a way no one else ever will. I believe it a fair trade. We may both have our friends, but I have my lovers. I would not give you up for anything."

Wordless with love, they both hugged her.

"We're never going to again," Clint finally promised Coulson when he could speak again. "You got it, Phil? We're not leaving, never."

"Of course, my love, I know," Coulson said, "and I'm never leaving you two either, understood?"

He smiled and kissed them both, well-worn against each other’s lips with practice.

"Seems like when I do," he teased, "you find yourselves all the way in Siberia."

"Next time we'll take you," Natasha promised with a smirk.

Coulson rolled his eyes and kissed them both again, the two of them embracing him tight. With them both holding him close, it was like they had never left.

...

Eventually, the entire group made it down to the hole that was being dug for the fire pit. Pepper had taken over arrangements, to the surprise of absolutely no one; Thor might've intervened, but both he and Loki were being smothered by their mother at the moment, and so had no room to do much of anything, frankly.

"Where are Darcy and Jane with the pizza?" Pepper demanded as soon as they approached. "And where's Bruce? Has anyone seen Bruce? He left when we got back, and I can't find him..."

"He said he had something he wanted to take care of," Natasha told her. "Did he mention anything to you?"

"No," Pepper said, her brow furrowing in worry. "Oh, god, what if he's..."

"Late? Yeah, I think I am. I'm sorry, honey. Can you forgive me?"

She turned around to see Bruce, holding a bouquet of flowers out to her. She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. Bruce flinched at the sound, hiding his face halfway in the flowers.

"I, um," he mumbled through daisies, "thought you might like these. To celebrate."

"You're the most wonderfully ridiculous man I've ever met," Pepper said, her voice warm and fond as she threw her arms around him. "I love you so much, Bruce."

"Me too, Pep," Bruce promised, tucking one of the daisies behind her ear. "I'm glad to be home."

"We're not in Malibu yet," Pepper said, baffled. "I mean, if you want, you and I can just go together _—_ I'd run away with you, you know that? Me, you, and a couple margaritas."

Bruce chuckled, giving her a sweet kiss; he was shy at first, until he began to lightly nibble on her bottom lip and make her sigh in bliss.

"There's no reason I would want to run away anywhere else," he murmured, putting the flowers aside to pull her into his arms, holding her close. "I'm here with you."

Pepper understood after that.

She held him tight, the flowers forgotten. They would share them later, wind them in each other's hair and then laugh about how silly they looked. For now, they were together.

The others prepared the feast themselves, letting the two lovers have their peace. The look on Bruce's face as he held Pepper close to him told them all that it was hard-won.

...

After another hour, everything was ready; the tables set, the pit roaring, the few drinks they had brought being passed around...everything was planned, set up, and done, in fact, except for the food.

"Where in god's name are they?" Tony said. "I mean, they went to the supermarket!"

"You don't think Fury _—_ "

"No, we dealt with him," Tony said firmly, cutting Steve off. "Babe, something's wrong..."

"Call Darcy," Steve suggested. Tony nodded, grabbing his phone and dialing.

A mile away, in the middle of a car, two girls sat and ignored a ringing phone.

"I'm scared to go back," Darcy said. "I mean...she...and we..."

"Do you want this?" Jane asked. "Because I don't want this if you don't. It's not fair otherwise."

"No, I mean, I want this, but _—_ she's a freaking god, Jane! We don't deserve that, we can't have that!" Darcy snapped.

"Darce," Jane murmured, stroking her hair, "I know. It's a lot. I'm still a little nervous, but I want to make this work, and I think we can. Remember, babe, it isn't about deserving."

Darcy sniffled a bit, pressing her face into Jane's chest. The other girl sighed, smiled, and kissed her forehead.

"Hey, look at it this way. Sif's a god. She thinks we deserves her. Do you wanna argue with a god?"

"No," Darcy said, her voice muffled by Jane's jacket.

"Good," Jane said, satisfied. "Then let's go talk to Sif. Oh, and...we should probably drop off the groceries or whatever."

"Are they gonna kill us?" Darcy asked as they drove off.

"Nah, the Asgardians are all still back at the grocery store anyway. We should probably let them know it's time to come home, too," Jane remarked.

"Man, they were entertained by self-checkout and the produce aisle for like, two hours. That's pretty impressive," Darcy said.

The two of them laughed to cover up the nervous butterflies in their stomach as they returned to the party _—_ and, more importantly, Sif.

...

They took a long time coming back; enough so that Sif could work herself into a lather over them. She was glad the others had left her alone; these were not things she wished to discuss with her friends or her men.

Fandral had other ideas.

"They will not say no," he told her when he approached, sitting down beside her. "And you have more than surely earned it."

Sif sighed and shrugged, looking up at the sky.

"There are...complications," she said.

"Of course there are," Fandral said, heaving a sigh. "Very well, Sif. Tell me when you are ready."

Sif let him continue to sit beside her. For a long time, the two friends sat in silence, looking up at the clouds. Sif's face was inscrutable, until finally, she spoke.

"I know to you, this is simple, but for me...this is...strange. And new. And I am...frightened," Sif confessed. "If that leaves the two of us, I will have your tongue."

"Thank you for the advance warning," Fandral said, smiling when she sat down beside him. "Really, why are you so surprised? This is the exact opposite of your usual skill set; of course it confuses you. This is love, Sif! It's _meant_ to be strange and new and wonderful! Let it be that way!"

Sif sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Yes, but...they know me as brave and strong, as the mighty warrior Sif. If I go to them stammering like a blushing maiden, I will _—_ "

"You will be in the exact same boat as them," Fandral said, cutting her off with a stern look. "Sif, I have known you all my life; I knew this day would come, and you would be a wreck when it did. I have not known these girls nearly as long, but I can assure you; they are currently going over the same agonizing second-guessing in their minds as well."

He sighed and hugged her, ruffling her hair. Sif closed her eyes and slumped her shoulders, relaxed.

"I might not be able to help them at the moment...but I am here for you," he promised. "You will be all right. Go speak to them. Be with them. You've earned that right."

"Thank you, Fandral," Sif murmured. "I needed that."

"I know you did," he said. "You're welcome to it. Up you get; they're waiting, I'm sure."

Sif nodded. Fandral offered her his arm; she smiled and took it, letting him help her up the hill as they went to rejoin their friends, and the two women waiting for her to return.

...

The two of them brought back pizza and enough ribs to feed a small army, which, since that was exactly what they had acquired, was no surprise. Tony didn't ask; seeing that Sif was still missing, he put two and two together and let the girls be on their own in peace.

Erik approached them, hugging Jane tight. He looked worn out, but a sort of relief kept the stress and exhaustion from seeping too deeply inside him.

"You two know she'll be good to you," he said firmly. "I couldn't be happier. There's no one I'd rather leave you in the hands of than an Asgardian god. You two go be happy."

"Erik, I..." Jane threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Thank you. I love you too."

He kissed her forehead and got them both settled before going to convince the Asgardians to actually open the ribs and cook them before eating them.

The two of them sat together watching the night sky, waiting and wringing their hands until she arrived home.

Fortunately, Sif was not the type who enjoyed being late.

All the men parted when they saw her arrive; she had not changed from her battle clothes, and so stood before the flames in bloodied leathers, looking fierce and proud despite the pounding in her heart.

She watched the two of them stop mid-sentence, looking at her with wide eyes. Sif knew then what men meant when they spoke of only seeing their love in crowded rooms; all the men she had fought with surrounded her, safe from battle, and all she knew, all she needed, was standing before her.

She went to them; she saw their fear, and felt only a searing desire to soothe it. She knelt, kissing their hands.

"Forgive me," she murmured. "I took longer than I would have liked. There was much to think over."

"Y'mean, then...we're over, right?" Darcy said, timid. "Well, not over. But, like...you don't...want us, right?"

"Whoever in the Allfather's name gave you that idea?" Sif demanded. "Tell me. I will stab them."

"If I say Loki, you'd do it, right?" Darcy said with a hesitant little giggle. Sif laughed, squeezing her hand.

"I would not need so much coaxing," she said with a tiny smile. "Come here, please. I'd just, I'd like to..."

"Man, what is it with chicks and asking if they can kiss me? Jane did it, and you're doing it, and all I want to do is get swept off my feet and ravished, is that really so hard _—_ "

Darcy was cut off by the crushing, all-consuming force of Sif's lips on her own, her hands holding fast in her hair and gripping tight as she openly devoured Darcy's mouth with the slow, lazy abandon of a lion feasting on their prey.

"It seems it is not," Sif remarked when she pulled away, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. "And it is convenient, as well."

"Yeah, by all means, punctuate my sentences with a makeout like that every time, please," Darcy said, beaming. "God, that...wow."

"I am glad I pass your muster, my lady," Sif said, giving her a quick, sweet kiss, "but there is one more I have yet to impress."

Darcy smiled, soothing Sif's evident worries with a soft kiss to her cheek, playing with her hair.

"Hey," she reminded her, "I don't mind sharing. Means I get you both, in my book. So don't worry, okay? Your face gets all scrunchy."

Sif gave her one last kiss and murmured, "Of course, my lady. I will not worry if I have the both of you with me."

Darcy squeezed her hand as she turned to Jane, her stomach churning with hesitant worry. The other woman tucked a strand of hair behind her shoulder and smiled, fiddling with her thumbs.

"Hey, uh," she murmured, "it's, uh...good to see you. Uh, I mean...I'm glad you're alive. I was worried."

"As was I," Sif replied. "You are so beautiful and delicate. To lose either of you to death would take me as well."

"Well, we're...we're good! We won! So...so you can, uh...we can do the war trophy thing now or whatever," Jane mumbled, undoing the first button on her shirt and fiddling with it, shy. Sif grabbed her hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it lightly.

"We will do no such thing," she said firmly, and both girls hated to admit how their hearts plummeted when she spoke.

She pulled them both close and stroked their hair, murmuring with amusement and affection, "Do you not see it now? You are not trophies to be won or concubines to be claimed. You are my lovers."

She brought Jane in for a slow kiss, her lips warm and bright like the fire that burned at their backs; Jane clung to her, standing on tiptoe as Sif kissed her, running a hand through her hair and tugging lightly at the long locks.

"Mine," Sif purred when they pulled away to breathe. "My lovers."

They both clung to her, dizzy with pleasure and mumbling choruses of agreement. Sif smiled, cupping their bottoms and squeezing lightly, as she had seen her men do. When the two of them squeaked and hid their faces in her chest, Sif figured it had worked.

She grinned once more, triumphant, and kissed their foreheads. It felt right to have them both. It was proper to have her lovers beside her after a victory; this, truly, was all she had needed to feel complete as a warrior. This was where she wanted to be, more than anywhere else in the world.

She carried them both to her place of honor at the table to whistles and cheers, feeling more like a warrior of valor than she ever had alone.

"How else could I have won this victory," she murmured aloud to let them hear of her love, "if not for you?"

They both smiled and leaned in for a kiss, and Sif knew they understood.

...

"We have won," Loki remarked, wincing as Thor rubbed his mother's healing salve over his back, "and everyone gets an eyeful of my bare chest. I am certain they are grateful."

"I would be, were you not injured," Thor replied, bandaging the wound. "Loki, father could have protected himself, there was no need _—_ "

"I wasn't sure of that," Loki said. "And...mother would miss the old fool if he died. Cause enough to ensure he didn't, I suppose."

Thor just kissed him, stroking his hair. He let Loki stew in thoughtful silence for awhile longer, looking out at their friends and comrades partying with abandon.

"What happens to us now?" Loki said. "We are caught between. You, the heir, and I, the queen...and yet we are not returning to Asgard. I know you. You will not leave these humans."

"This is true," Thor agreed. "I have spoken with father. Until the time of my coronation _—_ an _uninterrupted_ one, this time _—_ we shall remain on Midgard. They have need of us; we have been chosen as the ambassadors between the realms of Asgard and Midgard _—_ as have the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif, for their actions during the Battle of the Cosmos."

"Is that what we've chosen to call it? The bards will be pleased," Loki remarked. "I am significantly less pleased about remaining on Midgard, but it shall do. Any place would, with you beside me."

"Agreed," Thor said with a wide smile. "Fret not, Loki. No matter where we go, you shall always be my queen."

The other man blushed as Thor turned him around to finish up the bandages, kissing his face.

"We will have plenty of time before we must rule," Thor murmured, "but before that, I shall build a kingdom all for simply us. You and I, together, and I will treat you as you've always deserved."

"As I will you," Loki promised, a light tremor to his voice. "You've always needed my guidance, my dear, sweet fool. I assure you, you'll have it."

"And I will trust it," Thor replied. "Your soul resides within me now, Loki; I assure you, your words ring true. Truer than you know."

"I'm unused to such a thing," Loki remarked with a wry grin. "You've done much to get me used to the habit, I fear. You couldn't lie if your life depended on it."

"I love you, Loki," Thor said.

"See?" Loki murmured, his eyes bright as he pulled Thor into a sweet, deep, kiss. Thor ended up domineering him as Loki shuddered and groaned in openmouthed pleasure. Even his kisses spoiled him.

Thor stroked his hair when he pulled away, tracing a crown upon Loki's head with his rough fingers. Loki grinned, nuzzling into his touch.

"You will look beautiful in royal silks," he murmured. "My lost love. After all this, we are reunited beyond what I could have dreamed."

"I suppose you could say the same for much in your life, though," Loki remarked, gesturing to his friends _—_ alive once more, and fighting beside him. Thor nodded.

"True," he said. "I have been given new life, and reunited with those who would help me do great things with it. But I would see no reason to seek all this out, would I not have you beside me as my love and life."

"Oh, you've grown far too clever with your words," Loki said, his eyes glimmering wet and bright. "It isn't fair, Thor."

"Life is not," Thor agreed. "But there are always second chances."

He pulled Loki into a kiss, the two of them uniting as their souls hummed in communion, rebirth and renewal making them shine like the promise of a new beginning.

...

The night could have lasted forever, and for awhile, it felt like it did.

And yet, morning came. Morning tended to. And so they awoke, looking around and blinking bleary sleep out of their eyes, shaking off hangovers and disentangling themselves from lovers.

Those who knew they needed to leave found their way out to the edge of the camp.

The Avengers and those who had guided and aided them all looked at one another, satisfied. This was where they were meant to be, and they knew it.

"We did it," Steve said, because in times like these, he knew he was the one delegated to speech-making. "And we couldn't have done it without the help of our friends...but we wouldn't have been able to do what we did if we hadn't all been together, even moreso. We're not meant to be alone, or hide away. We've had to do it, but no more. Because we're heroes. Because we need to be together."

They nodded. Steve entwined his hand with Tony's and squeezed it.

"We're going to be okay," he promised. "I promise you that much. We're going to be just fine. And we're going to have a hell of a time in Malibu, too."

They all looked at each other and sighed, relieved. No vacation would ever feel so good, they figured. And they would need it _—_ there were plenty more fights to be fought.

But they would fight them together, and that was what mattered.

That made them all a little more at ease as they looked at each other; however, there was still one question that remained.

"But, what then, Steve? After we relax, which believe me, I'm all up for _—_ what do we do?" Tony asked. Steve sighed, inhaled slowly, and then gripped his shield.

"We stay heroes," he said. "And we stay together. Like we always did. Like we always will."

The team walked away, hand in hand, rebirth and renewal making them shine brighter than the sun above as the dawn went on and on.

 


End file.
